


Following the Lead of the Setting Sun

by adiwriting



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-09 11:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 46,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adiwriting/pseuds/adiwriting
Summary: When Oliver agrees to a life in prison, it lights a match to the entire Queen family’s world. How can Oliver be a good husband and father, while he’s in prison and fighting for his life?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 7x01 spec fic. Please note that there are brief scenes that allude to suicide and rape in this story (nothing that actually happens, but the thought/idea is brought up). If that is something that triggers you, then you should probably skip this story. If you would like more information, feel free to contact me on Tumblr (adiwriting). 
> 
> For anyone that it's familiar enough with my work to know... I may get super angsty, but I always give a happy ending. This story will be no different! I wouldn't end on a depressing note. Especially after the season we all just survived. 
> 
> Shout out to Megan for the beta and cheerleading! 
> 
> Finally- this art was super quick and messy. If anyone out there would like to do something better- I'm happy for the help!

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a cool, damp day at Slabside Maximum Security Prison. Oliver is sitting down at a bench looking out, beyond the several barbed wire fences that separate him from the rest of the world. To the naked eye, he would appear to be relaxed. Completely oblivious to the increasing chaos building up behind him. 

Oliver is always aware, however. He’s had his head on a swivel for years, and that constant awareness only increased the moment he was brought here. Oliver spent the last six years of his life helping capture a lot of criminals. The ones that were deemed too dangerous for Iron Heights ended up here. Since stepping through the gates, the inmates have treated it like open season on him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver sees the prison guards whispering. They’re taking bets. Worthless. Oliver learned months ago that he can’t rely on them to do anything but stand by and watch. 

Oliver is little more than entertainment to them.  

He takes a slow, deep breath in through his nose as he focuses on the sounds around him. There are several footsteps, which is to be expected. If somebody has decided to come at him, there will certainly be a crowd to watch. He listens harder. There’s a set of footsteps that’s closer than the rest… Two sets. 

They are going to tag team him. 

Oliver stays still and doesn’t alert them that he’s aware of their plan to jump him from behind. The power of surprise is a powerful weapon. His eyes go to the grass. There won’t be an obvious shadow with these clouds, but there will be something. He spots some grass that is slightly darker, and is able to follow the movement. That, mixed with the footsteps, tells him everything he needs to know. 

Oliver waits another second or two before he jumps up. He uses the bench, vaulting over it as he kicks out his leg. One of the inmates shivs goes flying to the ground as Oliver kicks his arm. Oliver starts throwing punches as soon as he lands, before he’s even identified who it is coming at him. One of the men grabs him from behind, wrapping his arms entirely around Oliver’s middle and trapping his arms. Oliver jumps off of the ground and kicks the man coming at him hard in the chest with both legs. It’s Devino, a large Italian guy that had been put away when the Bertinelli family had all gone down. He’d been the family’s main executioner, and now is serving 13 consecutive life sentences. 

Oliver uses the leverage he has from bringing his feet back down to the ground to bend over and roll the man holding him over his back. The man slams into the ground, hard. Oliver is able to see his face. It’s DeLuca, an even larger Italian guy who had served as muscle to the Bertinelli family. He had a nasty scar on his cheek from one of Oliver’s arrows and is serving a life sentence of his own. 

With his hands now free, Oliver pulls back and repeatedly punches DeLuca hard in the face. The crowd that has formed around them, cheers and Oliver listens carefully. The crowd will give away any surprises about to come his way. Everyone in this prison is practically watering at the mouth. They are all hungry to see somebody take him down. They have been for the entire five months he has been locked up. 

The crowd starts shouting, “Yes! Get him!” and Oliver’s head turns in time to see Devino coming at him with a shiv. He jumps back to avoid getting his stomach sliced open. The movement gives DeLuca the time needed to get back on his feet. Both men stalk towards him and Oliver rolls his eyes. 

“Are we really going to do this?” Oliver asks, resigned. Felicity and William are already on their way. Visiting hours start in less than a half hour. He’d been looking forward to seeing his family. “It’s Chow Mein tonight. You’ll miss it if you’re in the hospital wing recovering.” 

DeLuca scoffs. “You think you’re so invincible. But you bleed red just like the rest of us.” 

“Put him down!” Somebody in the crowd yells and Devino takes a swing at him. Oliver dodgest out of the way but the shiv still slices at Oliver’s arm. It’s not deep, but it does sting. 

Oliver steps backwards and attempts to leave the circle that’s formed around him, but the men don’t allow him to exit. Oliver doesn’t want to fight any of these guys. He’s sick of this. He just wants to serve out his sentence in peace. But if it’s going to come down to his life or theirs, he won’t hesitate to take them out. So far he’s avoided having to send anyone to the morgue, but there’s a first time for everything. 

DeLuca takes a step towards him and Oliver sees an opening. His foot slams into the man’s shin and Oliver hears the bone snap. As the man cries out in pain, Oliver throws a punch to the man’s head. He stumbles backwards, yelps at the pain in his leg and falls to the ground. Oliver then swings around and kicks Devino in the face. The man takes a step back for a moment but then charges at Oliver. He grabs him around the middle and manages to cut Oliver’s side with the shiv. It doesn’t go deep, thankfully, but that’s not the only danger. The weapons found in prison are made out of whatever the inmates can find and they’re filthy. All it takes is one infected scrape to do him in. It’s not like the guards will let him go to the hospital wing to get his wounds cleaned. 

Oliver grabs the man’s hand and bends it backwards until it snaps. He head butts Devino and uses that momentum to break out of his hold. Once freed, Oliver doesn't go on the offensive. He puts his hands up in a defensive stance. The guards will never believe he didn’t start this fight, but that’s not what holds him back. Oliver still has a code. The same code he’s followed for the last few years, and it’s that code that has kept him from completely sucomming to the monster within him. It’s kept him from becoming like these men.  

Oliver won’t hurt another man unless he absolutely has to. 

“You can call it quits,” Oliver gives him an out. “Walk away.” 

The crowd boos loudly as Devino laughs. There is no walking away from a fight here. If Devino walks away, he’s going to lose all of his hard earned street cred. Still, Oliver wants to make it clear that he gave him a chance. When Devino storms at him again with his shiv pointed straight at him, Oliver jumps up in the air and flips over, kicking the shiv out of Devino’s hand in the process. He then punches Devino square in the face. As his body turns with the force of the hit, Oliver wraps his arm around his neck and moves behind him, pulling the man down since he’s taller than Oliver. He tightens his grip enough that Devino can just barely breathe. 

“Yield!” Oliver yells. 

Devino punches back at him and manages to hit Oliver right in the nose, but Oliver’s grip doesn’t loosen. A man in the crowd steps out to come at Oliver and Oliver kicks back, hitting him right in the nuts. He falls to the ground in pain. Nobody else steps forward to challenge him. 

“Yield!” Oliver yells again when Devino doesn’t tap out. 

“Fuck you,” Devino gets out with what little airflow he can manage. 

Oliver rolls his eyes before he squeezes harder. The man passes out and Oliver drops his grip as Devino falls to the floor. Oliver looks around, daring somebody else to come at him as the bell rings. 

It’s time to go inside. Oliver is safe for another day.  

It also means that visiting hours are about to start and William and Felicity are going to be seriously disappointed. Again. 

He stands there, breathing heavy and he wills his body to calm down from the massive spike of adrenaline he’s just experienced. Several inmates spit at him as they walk away, headed inside for count. Oliver doesn’t attempt to go with them. He knows what’s about to happen, and there won’t be any hiding from it. Five prison guards, including Crawley, approach him, looking at the two bodies on the ground and the other inmate kneeling, crying about his balls. 

“You just can’t help yourself can you,” Crawley says with a scowl. He’s has had it out for Oliver since day one. Word on the street is that he blames Oliver for his sister’s death. She’d been a student at Starling University several years ago and she was one of the 503 people to die in the Undertaking. 

He grabs Oliver’s arm violently and forces it behind his back. Oliver doesn’t fight back as he’s forced into handcuffs. He doesn’t try to argue his case. Nothing is going to get him out of this. Inside, his heart is pulling painfully. He’s not going to get the chance to explain this to Felicity and William. But on the outside, he remains completely neutral. Showing weakness here is an invitation for trouble. 

“Get these men to the hospital wing,” Crawley orders the other guards. 

“You really should stop starting fights, Queen,” Crawley tells him as he walks him roughly towards the solitary wing. “You’re never going to be eligible for parole this way.” 

He chuckles and all of Oliver’s blood boils. Oliver has never started a single fight here. He’s been nothing but a model prisoner in the hopes that he could one day be released back to his family. It’s not his fault that inmates keep attacking him. However, Oliver knows that won’t be what his file says. The guards are going to make sure it’s stated that Oliver has started each and every fight he’s been in. And that’s the story Felicity is going to see when she hacks into the prison servers to find out why he wasn’t able to see them today. 

She’s going to be livid. But Oliver reminds himself that he’d rather she be mad at him then terrified for him. Despite the fact that she’ll argue otherwise, there’s nothing that she can do to help his current situation. He’d rather her focus her energy on taking care of William and herself. Because Oliver’s situation is hopeless. Crawley is right. He’s never getting out of here. And the truth of the matter is, these fights are going to keep happening. One one day, soon, Oliver might not see it coming and he’s going to die in here. 

****

Felicity steps out of the car and slams the door closed. She fixes her dress, smoothing the wrinkles out, before she bends down to look in the side mirror of the car to make sure her hair and lipstick are still okay. 

“You look great,” William says with a teasing smirk on his face. “Besides, you know that Dad doesn’t care what you look like, he’ll always think you’re beautiful.” 

Felicity blushes but shakes her head. 

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of your grounding,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him knowingly. 

William shrugs. “It’s gotten Dad out of worse.” 

Felicity sighs as William laughs. Over the summer, William very much went from a kid to a teenager and she’s not sure she likes it. He’s got a lot more lip on him and he’s certainly less intimidated by her. Her angry voice doesn’t seem to do much for him and he treats groundings like a joke. 

William needs more than her. He needs his parents. His real parents. But Samantha is gone and Oliver is stuck in prison. Felicity is a poor substitute, no matter what Oliver might say. 

Felicity looks up at the entrance to Slabside with dreed. She hates this building with a passion. It’s been five months and the longer they go with Oliver still locked up, the less she understands the deal he made with the FBI. When Oliver had first been arrested, she’d been too shocked to feel the real weight of the decision. She’d been overwhelmed with trying to process everything and figure a way out of this mess, that she hadn’t had time to truly feel anger. 

Now that she’s had time to live with Oliver’s decision and work through her feelings, she can admit that she’s mad at Oliver. She’s angry that he went to the FBI and made a deal without consulting her. She’s even more angry that he didn’t inform her about the deal when he came back. Finding out she was losing her husband in the same moment she was learning about Quentin’s death wasn’t fair. She deserved more from her husband. 

William must sense her anxiety, and in a rare moment of charity, he reaches out to grab onto her hand. She smiles back at him, grateful for the support. Together, they walk up to the visitor’s entrance and hand over their IDs. 

“Who are you here for?” the guard asks her, looking them both up and down with suspicion. 

That’s one thing Felicity can’t get used to. The fact that these guards treat visitors like criminals themselves. As if they are somehow guilty by association. 

“Oliver Queen,” she says, keeping her emotions in check. She’s learned the hard way that pissing off a prison guard is the quickest way to be denied entrance. 

The guard gets on his walkie and calls up to the main building to check that Oliver is cleared for visitors. If he is, they’ll step through a security checkpoint before catching a bus up to the main facility where Oliver is being held. 

Felicity hears a command come over the walkie. The man says Oliver’s name before reading off a code that Felicity knows too well. She rolls her eyes and looks up to the sky, trying to contain her temper. 

“I’m sorry, Queen is not allowed visitors at the moment,” the guard tells her. 

Of course he’s not, he’s been put in solitary confinement. Again. 

Felicity keeps that comment to herself. William certainly doesn’t need to hear where is father is. There’s only one way that inmates end up in solitary, and it’s a form of punishment. Oliver’s done something wrong. 

She takes a deep breath, and squeezes William’s hand, willing her body not to shake with rage. Oliver had known they were coming today. She’d spoken to him about it on the phone this morning. He couldn’t hold it together for a few hours. He’d just had to go and do something when he knew that it would mean not getting to see them. 

She doesn’t understand why he always has to push everyone away. She’d thought that they’d moved past this when they got married. 

“I don’t understand,” William says. “Why can’t I see my dad?” 

“He’s unavailable,” the guard says, without emotion. There’s not even an ounce of sympathy for a boy who’s father has been stripped away from him. 

“Why?” William asks, his tone going from confusion to anger. 

“I’m not at liberty to say,” the guard says.

“You’re a jackass,” William says. 

“William, please,” Felicity says, tugging on his hand, terrified he’s going to do something stupid, like punch this prison guard. 

William drops her hand. 

“The two of you need to step out of line,” the guard says, puffing his shoulders up. His hands go to his waist like he’s ready to draw a weapon. “I already told you that you can’t see Queen today.” 

“We understand,” Felicity says, her hands going to William’s shoulders as she tries to force him out of the line. 

“We don’t understand,” William says. “We told him we were coming. He’s expecting us. He has a right to visitors.” 

“He has a right to nothing!” The guard says harshly, moving inches from William’s face. 

Felicity feels William’s entire body tense and she says a silent prayer that he is able to control his anger. The last thing she needs is both of her boys in jail. 

“Your dad is a criminal and he has a right to nothing. Now leave.” The guard points towards the parking lot. 

William scoffs, but thankfully allows Felicity to pull him out of line this time. As they are walking back to their car, Felicity hears the guard laugh and say that William is a chip off the old block. William stiffens and turns to go back, but Felicity grabs onto his arm and pulls back with all of her body weight. 

In addition to growing nearly a foot taller over the summer, William has started working out. At the time she thought it was a good idea. A good way for him to blow off some steam. But now that he’s stronger than her, she certainly regrets getting him that gym membership. She should have gotten him a bonsai tree instead. 

“Let it go, please,” Felicity says. 

The fight leaves William’s body completely. He turns back to look at Felicity and there are tears in his eyes. 

“I don’t understand,” William says, sounding so broken. “He saved the entire city and they all act like he’s Ted Bundy.” 

“I know.” 

Felicity’s eyes well up. She doesn’t have an answer for him. He’s been asking her the same question since Oliver was arrested. He doesn’t understand why Oliver is in prison. Truth be told, neither does she. 

Felicity can understand, logically, that Oliver broke the law. He’s murdered people along the way, broken into buildings, violated nearly every traffic law known to man… But he’d done that in the name of saving lives. Of making sure that the city was safe. If Oliver had been able to negotiate for the freedom of all of Team Arrow, shouldn’t he have been the first one with immunity? Between them all, he’s the one that’s saved the most lives. At a certain point, doesn’t the greater good overpower everything else? 

If men can go to war and commit heinous crimes in the name of democracy and still come home a hero, why can’t her husband kill a few evil men in the name of saving lives? Doesn’t the city remember Damien Darhk? Oliver had taken him down on live TV. The entire city had seen it happen. They can claim ignorance with Merlyn. Pretend they have no idea how the Siege had been stopped. But they can’t pretend they don’t know exactly who saved them when Damien Darhk tried to create armageddon. If it hadn’t been for Oliver, the entire world would likely be in flames. 

“I don’t understand,” William says, starting to cry. 

“Neither do I,” Felicity admits with a deep sigh. “But we’re going to be strong. Your dad needs us to be strong.” 

William nods his head and sniffles as he tries to stop crying. The resolve on his face as he pulls back his shoulders and stands tall reminds her so much of Oliver it hurts. 

Beyond all of her hurt and anger, she misses her husband. There’s a hole inside of her that will never be filled as long as he’s apart from them. 

“Why can’t we see him?” he asks. 

“I don’t know, buddy,” she lies. As let down as she feels by Oliver for getting himself thrown into solitary, William doesn’t need to shoulder that burden as well. He has enough issues to deal with. 

They get back in the car reluctantly. They’ve just spent four hours driving up here, and now it’ll be another four hours back home. All for nothing. 

It’s certainly going to be a Big Belly night. 

William fiddles with the radio until he lands on news station. Digg thinks it’s weird that William listens to talk radio instead of Top 40, rock, or some kind of indie station. Most teens would rather listen to music than the news. But Felicity understands. Oliver used to listen to talk radio whenever he would drive. It’s a reminder. 

And right now, that’s all they have. Reminders. That’s all they’ll ever have. Because Oliver is never going to get out of prison at this rate. The prison records she’s hacked into say he keeps starting fights. A part of Felicity worries that he has regressed. That prison has made him forget what he’s fighting for. That he’s starting fights to ensure that he stays in prison. It would be very Old Oliver to punish himself by extending his sentence. 

“This just in, there as been a breakin at Kord Industries. Two security guards are in critical condition at Starling General,” the news report says. William sits up and turns up the volume and Felicity’s stomach drops. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

****

Oliver wakes up to the sound of metal sliding against metal. His body is instantly alert and he curses that he’d allowed himself to fall asleep so deeply. His eyes dart around, surprised at the silence before he registers that he’s not in his cell. He’s still in solitary. 

He glances over at the open slit in his door and spots Bill on the other side. Oliver sighs in relief. Bill has become Oliver’s only ally in this place. He and his family use to live in Star City, back when it was still Starling City. He was a prison guard at Iron Heights and his wife was a preschool teacher at a school in the Glades. One day, when she’d been walking back to her car late at night, she’d been attacked and The Hood had saved her. Bill’s family had moved after they lost their home in The Undertaking, but the man had never forgotten what The Hood did for his wife. 

Bill can’t do much, but he helps Oliver out when he can and Oliver is grateful for it. The shu has become Oliver’s safe place. What is supposed to be a punishment, is the only place he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder constantly. It’s a relief. Sometimes the only sleep he gets is in this barren, six by eight cell. 

The only downside is that there are no phone calls allowed from the shu. Oliver’s thoughts drift to Felicity and William and that all too familiar hollowness takes over his chest. Even back on the island, Oliver isn’t sure he if ever felt this lonely before. When the Gambit went down, he’d seemingly lost everything. What he’s only learned recently, since becoming a father and a husband, is that he’d never had much to lose before. He’d never truly felt happy back then. 

Now, he truly understands what it means to lose everything and to feel a loneliness so deep that his bones ache. 

“What time is it?” he asks. 

“6am,” Bill tells him. 

Oliver is surprised he slept for so long. That fight must have really taken it out of him. 6am. It’s morning. Felicity and William will have come and gone already. Oliver hates that he missed them. His eyes well up with tears as he tries to push them back down. 

“Felicity and William were supposed to come yesterday,” Oliver says, heartbroken. 

“You’ll explain it to them when you get out,” Bill says sympathetically, passing Oliver some basic medical supplies through the slit in the door. 

“She thinks I keep starting fights,” he says, sitting up in bed. His back aches. It’s a pain that never goes away thanks to the prison’s thin mattresses. Oliver is certainly too old for this. 

“Correction, you let her think you keep starting fights,” Bill says. 

Oliver sighs. It’s a fair point and one he doesn’t have an argument for. Bill knows his reasons for keeping the fact that he’s a target in this prison secret from Felicity and William. Knowing that he’s being attacked at least once a week won’t do them any good. There isn’t anything they can do from the outside but worry. Telling them is pointless. They are struggling enough with their new normal as it is; he doesn’t need to add to their burden. 

Oliver stands up and grabs the medical supplies. He uses an anti-bacterial wipe to clean up the cut on his arm first. He bandages that up before taking off his shirt and looking down at his side. It looks rather nasty. Devino had gotten him a lot more than Oliver had initially realized. He grabs a new wipe and cleans out the wound, wincing as it burns. 

“You gonna be okay?” Bill asks. Oliver can hear the worry in his voice. 

“I’ve had much worse,” Oliver says. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure,” Oliver says as he starts to bandage up his side. In a perfect world, he’d put in some stitches, but he’ll just have to move carefully for the next few days and let his body figure out how to heal. 

“How do you push through it?” 

“The pain?” Oliver asks. He uses the small mirror Bill gave him to check out his nose. It’s definitely broken. He uses a wet washcloth to wipe the blood off of his face. 

“That… All of it,” Bill muses. “You just seem to take it all in and nothing phases you. Nothing breaks you.” 

Oliver sighs. He brings all of his supplies over to Bill and hands them back. 

“You know that feeling, when somebody you love is hurting and you want to take their pain for them?” Oliver asks, trying to explain something he isn’t quite sure he can put into words. “You’d do just about anything in order to make sure that they are safe, cared for, and happy... I guess, whenever I get hurt, I remind myself that it’s better me than the people I love.” 

“That sounds a little masochistic,” Bill comments. It’s not cynicism or judgement. It’s sympathy. 

Oliver can’t help the small chuckle he lets out. 

“I was out there for over six years,” he says. “I put myself in danger every night. I put on a hood and fought some of the worst criminals in the world in order to protect the people I care about… It’s more than a little masochistic. And you’re not the first person to tell me that.” 

“So why did you do it?” Bill asks. “It’s not like the city was ever grateful for it. Look at where you are.” 

Oliver thinks about that long and hard. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. In his darker days, in here, he’s allowed himself to be bitter. To get angry at his city for not appreciating all the sacrifices he’s made in order to keep them all safe. He’s always said that he didn’t do it for the thanks, but there are days when he’s alone and scared about getting shanked in his sleep, that he can admit the entire situation really sucks. 

“I did it because it was the right thing to do,” he says, honestly. “I went through hell and came out the other side with these skills… What else was I supposed to do with them but help protect the people and city I care so much about?” 

“I bet you were a good mayor,” Bill says wistfully. 

Oliver snorts. He’s not sure about that. “I did my best.” 

Bill’s watch beeps, signalling that its nearing the end of his shift. Oliver sighs, disappointed that their time together is already coming to a close. Bill is the only person in this place that Oliver talks to. 

“Don’t go sighing on me, you’re the one that slept through most of my shift,” Bill teases. “Besides, I brought you something to read for while you’re stuck in here without me.” 

Oliver expects him to hand over the latest Harlan Coben novel, but instead he passes over a stack of letters. Oliver grabs at them eagerly. The prison guards usually get to his mail before Oliver can ever read it. Every once in awhile, Bill is able to get to his mail before it makes it into the trash. 

“Thank you,” Oliver says seriously, looking through the letters with teary eyes. There is one from Thea. One from Digg. Two from William. And three from Felicity. 

“Stay strong, my friend,” Bill says. 

When the slit in the door slides shut, Oliver goes to sit back on his bed and reads his letters over and over. He holds onto the memory of his loved ones and tries to pull the love and warmth they pour into the letters into his own slowly dying heart. He let’s them recharge his soul. 

Oliver can survive anything. He can suffer through this sentence, so long as the people he loves are free. 

****

“What on Earth were you thinking?!” Felicity yells at William. “Nevermind, I can answer that one. You weren’t! You couldn’t possibly have been thinking at all. If you had been, you would have seen what a completely stupid decision it was to go out there in the first place! Jesus, William. Do you have a death wish? Is that what this is about? Because you know that the only way that was going to end was in death right?” 

William doesn't say anything as he sits on the couch and stares blankly ahead. The black eye that he’s sporting that’s so swollen that he can’t even open it, says enough. He refuses to meet her eyes as he stares at a spot on the wall behind her. She knows this look well. She’s seen it on Oliver more times than she can count. William knows that he’s guilty, but he also isn’t sorry. 

She wonders what gene it is that makes both of her boys so careless with their own lives and if there is a way to genetically alter it. At least Oliver had some skills and training to bring with him during one of his stupid suicide missions. William literally has nothing to bring to a fight except a stubborn need to do what is right. 

“Your father left you in my care,” Felicity pushes on, not losing steam as her heart continues to race. Her mind won’t stop feeding her images of William lying dead in an alley somewhere. “He wanted me to protect you. He did not want this!” 

“My dad wanted this city to be safe!” William finally speaks up, standing up to yell at her. 

“Yes! And most importantly, you!” 

Felicity tries to take a steadying breath to calm down. This isn’t working. Screaming at each other is getting them nowhere. 

Last night, William had snuck out of the house. He had hacked into the security system that alerts Felicity if anyone enters or leaves the house. He bypassed it while she was sleeping and hit the streets. He’d stolen his father’s hood, along with his bow, quiver, and a full set of arrows. 

When Digg had found him, he’d just picked a fight with a street thug. Felicity thinks about what would have happened if Digg hadn't found him, and she nearly hyperventilates. Oliver had entrusted her with the most precious thing in his world and Felicity had nearly allowed William to be killed last night. 

“Somebody needs to protect this city,” William argues. 

Felicity loves Oliver’s heroism. It’s the reason she fell in love with him. And there are a whole lot of similarities between Oliver and William that she loves, but this isn’t one of them. Felicity would have been happy if William was a coward. She didn’t want him inheriting his father’s stupidly noble need to protect people. 

“Somebody will,” Felicity argues back. “A whole team of somebodies. You know them.” 

“What, those people that abandoned my dad when he needed them most?” William scoffs. “Ricardo Diaz was taking over this city and they were too busy being drama queens to pitch in and help dad take him down. They aren’t heroes. I’m not trusting Dad’s mission to them.” 

“You don’t get to decide that, William,” she says. “I get that you’re upset. We’re all upset here. But your dad wouldn't want this.” 

William fixes her with a deadly glare. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You are not my mother.” 

The phone rings and Felicity wants to ignore it. She needs to tell William that she’s not trying to be his mother, that she’s just trying to keep him safe. But when she glances at the caller ID on her phone and sees the call coming in is from Slabside, she can’t ignore it. 

She picks up the phone, holding her finger up to William, telling him to wait as he tries to slink back into his bedroom. 

“You have a collect call from an inmate at Slabside Maximum Security Prison. To accept charges, please say yes.” 

“Yes,” Felicity says. 

A moment later, Oliver’s voice comes over the line. “Hey, it’s me,” he says. 

Felicity’s eyes fill with tears at the sound of his voice. 

“Hey,” she says. All previous anger at him for getting thrown into solitary disappears in the moment. Her fight with William has taken it out of her and she just needs her husband right now. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

Felicity wants to scoff at that. What’s wrong? That’s such a loaded question. What’s wrong is that her husband is in a maximum security prison and she’s not allowed to break him out. What’s wrong is that her step-son thinks he can be the Green Arrow suddenly despite the fact that he’s in middle school. What’s wrong is that she has zero control over her life at the moment. 

But she can’t put any of that on Oliver. He’s dealing with enough as it is. She wipes her eyes and does her best to sound normal. 

“Nothing,” she says, forcing a smile on her face. “I’m just struggling to wake up this morning. What happened this weekend?” 

She can hear Oliver’s sigh over the line. 

“There was a misunderstanding,” Oliver says. “I’m so sorry. I really wanted to see you both.” 

“We wanted to see you, too,” she says, her bottom lip starts to tremble as she tries to hold it together and be strong. “That’s why we drove all the way out there.” 

“I’m sorry, Felicity,” he says, sounding like he’s near tears as well. “I didn’t… You can both still come up this weekend though, right?” 

Felicity looks at William and tries to calculate how long it’s going to take his face to heal. There is no way that the swelling on his eye will have gone down enough in only a few days time. And the bruising is too dark for makeup to cover at the moment. She can’t bring William to Oliver like this. He’ll lose his shit and do something stupid. 

“Oliver,” she says, stalling for time, trying to come up with a valid excuse not to come up this weekend. Or at least, as to why William won't be able to make it. If she can find somebody to keep an eye on William and make sure he doesn’t sneak off to play vigilante, she can probably still make it. 

“Please?” Oliver asks. “Don’t be mad at me. I need to see you guys. It’s the only thing I’ve got in here.” 

Well that just shatters her heart. She wants to snark at him that if he needs them so much, he shouldn’t break the rules and get himself locked in solitary confinement, but William can hear her. 

“Felicity,” Oliver pleads. 

She closes her eyes and for a moment, he’s right there next to her. Her heart pulls painfully as it calls out for Oliver, needing his touch. 

“Will you come, please?” Oliver asks. 

Felicity shakes her head. “William has a science fair,” she lies. 

She’s about to say that she can still come, but Oliver speaks up. “No, right. School comes first. And it’s important that you’re there for that. He needs your support.” 

“Right,” she agrees, her heart breaking. That’ll be another weekend then of her not seeing Oliver. She’s lost count of how many that will be by now. It’s been at least a month since she saw him last. 

She hears Oliver sniffle and it’s a punch in the gut. But one glance at William tells her she’s doing the right thing. Oliver is in enough pain without seeing William like this. Oliver has a deeply seated need to protect people. He doesn't operate well when he can’t help the people he loves. If he knew what was going on with William, he’d be devastated. And he’s already just barely hanging on. She worries that this would be the thing that has him shutting down completely. 

“So what’s his experiment?” Oliver asks, trying to sound cheerful. 

Felicity searches her mind for a lie. She would just tell Oliver what William is currently working on for the actual school science fair, but she can’t. Because William told her that he isn’t participating in it this year and all the persuading in the world can’t convince him otherwise. 

“Oh, you know… He actually refuses to tell me about it. Says he wants it to be a surprise,” she improvises. 

“That’s weird. He’s always so anal about getting you to double check all of his homework,” Oliver says. 

“Well, he’s becoming a teenager,” she says. “I’m not cool anymore.” 

She says it as a joke, but it’s not. Her relationship with William isn’t anything close to what it use to be. William resents her. He wants his father back. He doesn’t want Felicity and she can’t blame him. She too had lost her father when she was young, so she understands his anger. Felicity had taken her rage out on her mother. William doesn’t have anyone but her and Raisa to take his anger out on. 

“Well I still think you’re pretty cool,” Oliver says. “Is he there?” 

Felicity has never stopped William and Oliver from talking before, but seeing the look of rage in William’s eyes has her thinking that now might not be the best time for them to talk. 

“He actually left for school early with Raisa,” Felicity says. “Can you call back after school?” 

“Sure,” Oliver says. He’s disappointed, but trying to hide it from her. “I should probably get off soon anyway. There are some guys waiting for the phone.” 

“I love you, Oliver,” Felicity says. “We’ll see each other soon.” 

“I hope so,” he says. “I love you, too.” 

When they hang up the phone, Felicity turns back to William, steeling herself for a continued argument. 

“I thought you said lying was wrong,” William says, snidely. 

“Your father has enough to worry about without having a heart attack over the fact that his son nearly died last night. He’s not seeing you like this,” Felicity argues. 

William throws his hands up in the air out of frustration and storms out of the room. A moment later, his bedroom door slams shut. 

Felicity wishes that he could understand how much she cares about him. She’s not trying to diminish his desire to help or his need to honor his father. She’s just trying to keep him safe. She’s already lost her husband, she can’t lose him, too. 

Why do the Queen men have to be so stubbornly noble? 

****

Oliver looks in the mirror of the bathroom after his shower and sighs. Felicity is planning on coming to visit today. The all day meeting she was supposed to be having with one of her new clients had been cancelled and she’d ended up with the day free. She’d told him last night that Digg had agreed to pick William up from school and look after him so that she could come up. 

Oliver had jumped at the opportunity to see her and told her to go with it. He’d been excited to see her. It’s been six weeks since he’s been able to see her. Between him getting locked in the shu and the various school and work events his family has had going on, time has just gotten away from them. 

However, all of his excitement is gone as he stares back at his reflection. There is a large gash in the side of his neck from the inmate that had jumped him in the middle of the night. Oliver’s jaw is black and blue from his ear to his chin. His nose is still green and yellow from breaking it in the yard fight before. He looks awful. If Felicity comes and sees him like this, he’s going to have to tell her what happened and he’s going to have to tell her the truth. She’ll see right through him if he’s lying. She can always tell when she looks into his eyes. 

Oliver pictures her reaction to finding out he’s been jumped. To finding out that it’s a regular occurrence for him. That the guards seem to enjoy playing this game where they leave an inmate's cell unlocked along with his own. Felicity is going to lose her mind. No matter what he tells her, there won’t be any talking her down. 

She’s going to break him out of here and then where will they be? Together, sure. That sounds amazing. But he won't ask his family to live a life on the run. And even if he could, the deal he made with the FBI was everyone else’s freedom in exchange for his own. If he breaks out, that will negate the terms of their agreement. The entire team would be put into prison as well. 

Can he really be that selfish? 

No. Oliver doesn’t have to like being in here, but he’s in here for a reason. He’s committed crimes and he’s doing his penance. 

He’s just going to have to tell Felicity to come another day. 

His heart sinks. Every cell of his body cries out for Felicity. He’s so lonely in here that it’s difficult not to let his mind go to that dark place. He needs her. He needs her light and her warmth to remind him that life is worth living. That there are things in his life that he wants to stick around for. 

He gets dressed and solumely walks to the phones. There are five minutes before they call for breakfast. This will be easier on both of them if he can catch her before she leaves to come see him. 

He dials the number and waits patiently for her to pick up and to accept the charges. 

“Hey, I’m just about ready to leave,” she tells him. “William already left for school. What’s up?” 

Oliver bites his lip as his heart screams at him not to do this. Just to let her come. He wants to see her so badly, but he can’t do it. This isn’t about him. There’s not a lot he can do for her while in prison, but he can at least protect her from the horrors he experiences in here. 

“Felicity—” 

“No,” she cuts him off and he wonders how many times he’s done this to her that she can see what’s coming before he even says a word. It makes him feel like an ass. “I am pouring coffee into my Tervis as we speak and I am walking out the door. I will be there in four hours. So whatever you’re going to say, just… no.” 

“You can’t come here today,” he says, rubbing his face in frustration. 

Why do the chips always have to fall against him. Why can’t anything ever go his way? 

“We haven’t seen each other in over a month. I have the day off and you miraculously haven’t done anything stupid and ended up in solitary. So give me one good reason why I can’t come and see you today?” she asks. He can hear her patience with him wearing thin. 

“It’s not safe,” he tells her. 

She snorts. “I don’t care.” 

“Felicity...” 

“Oliver,” she says, sharply. “I am your wife. I don’t understand why you keep doing this.” 

Oliver’s already shattered heart rips and tears at his chest. He hates this. He hates everything about the situation that they’ve found themselves in. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I’m getting really tired of hearing you say that,” she says. “You’re sorry that you made the deal with Watson. You’re sorry that you didn’t tell me about it beforehand. You’re sorry you did an entire farewell tour for everyone but me. You’re sorry that you keep starting fights with other inmates. When does it stop?” 

Oliver shakes his head. He doesn’t have an answer for her. They’ve been having this argument for months. She gets mad, they talk about it, she tells him that she forgives him. A few weeks later, it comes up again. Oliver can’t blame her. Her entire world fell apart the day he was arrested. Grief isn’t linear. It moves in cycles. 

“I know that saying I’m sorry isn’t enough to fix it, but I don’t know what else to do from in here,” he says. “This isn’t the life I wanted for us.” 

“I know,” she says. “So why didn’t you let me talk you out of making that deal?” 

“Because we were desperate,” he says. “Diaz came after you and William in our home. I had to do whatever I could to keep you both safe. The alliance with Watson was the quickest way to end things with the least amount of casualties.” 

“And you didn’t trust our team to be able to handle it alone,” Felicity says. 

“I…” He sighs. 

She’s right. 

His faith in some of his teammates was shaky. He’d made his peace with them and he’d trusted them to help take down Diaz. But the wounds had run deep and he hadn’t trusted them to have his back if it came down to it. 

Looking back, he wonders how things might have played out differently if he’d never allowed his team to fall apart. If the people he’d trusted hadn’t abandoned him. 

“Bringing Watson in gave us more manpower,” he says, because he still believes it’s true. He can play ‘what if’ all day long, but he’s certain, given the hand they’d held, it had been the only move they could make. “It was the best option in a pool of only bad options.” 

“But you didn’t talk to me about it,” she says, and he can hear her crying. “You left me out of the conversation completely. I’m your wife and you didn’t think you needed to talk to me about it.” 

Oliver scrubs his face with his free hand as the familiar guilt fills him up. He hates it when Felicity cries. He hates it even worse when he knows that he’s the one that made her cry. 

“I was selfish,” he admits. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Every time I opened my mouth to talk to you about it, I felt like I was going to lose the careful control I had. The thought of leaving William without a father. Of never being allowed to be with you or him again… It was too much. I was panicking. And telling you… I knew if I told you, I would have a panic attack. I could feel it coming on every time I looked at you… It’s why… God. I should have said goodbye to you properly. You deserved that. I just couldn’t.” 

“Oliver…” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I’m not sure you’ve ever been selfish…” 

Oliver takes a slow breath, refusing to tear up with so many other inmates around. 

“I know it’s not fair,” she says. “I understand why you did what you did, and I’m still mad. It’s not fair, but it’s how I feel.” 

“You’re angry at the situation,” he says. “I am, too. I hate that I can’t be there for you like you need. This isn’t what I thought our life would be when I asked you to marry me. If I’d known, I never would have asked you.” 

“Don’t say that,” she says, sniffling. “I wouldn’t trade marrying you for anything. We just… We need to figure out how to make this work. I have to be able to see you.” 

“I know,” he says, rubbing his jaw and wincing at the pain. It’s a sharp reminder that he still does have to make sure she stays away today. She can come back another day, when he doesn’t look so pathetic. 

“So can I please come today?” she asks. 

He shakes his head, hating himself so much for letting her down like this. But he doesn’t have another option. 

“There’s been talk among the prisoners. There’s discontent. Tempers are flying,” Oliver says. It’s not entirely a lie. There has been discontent. The discontent has been directed entirely at him, but she doesn't need to know that. “I’m worried they are going to try something and I don't want you caught up in the middle of a riot.” 

Felicity lets out a long, slow breath. He knows her well enough that he can picture her face. She has her eyes closed and is counting in her head. She’s trying to figure out if she’s going to be mad at him or if she’s going to let this go. 

“I love you, more than you could know,” Oliver adds, for good measure. 

Felicity doesn’t say anything right away. He glances up at the clock on the wall. They are going to call for breakfast soon. He won’t be able to talk to her for much longer. He doesn’t want to end things like this. 

“I know that you love me,” Felicity says. “You did all of this because you love me. You’re in prison now because you wanted to make sure William and I were safe. I don’t question your love for me. I just wish…” 

“What?” 

“I wish that you loved yourself,” she says. “I wish that you understood that when you press the self-destruct button, that it hurts me just as much as it hurts you.” 

“Felicity,” he whispers, not knowing what to say. Her words hit home. She knows him, too well. From her perspective, that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s causing fights on in the prison yard and breaking rules left and right to get himself thrown into solitary. He’s pushing her away because he doesn't feel like he deserves her. It’s exactly what he used to do. She thinks he’s regressing. Retreating back to old habits. 

And he can’t lie, the temptation to do exactly that has been there. He hasn’t through. He’s fought against it. He’s held onto the memory of being with her. The memory of being with William. He’s used that to stay strong. She doesn’t understand that him missing so many meetings because of getting thrown into solitary isn’t his fault. And he can’t tell her that. 

It hurts. Everything hurts. 

“I won’t come today,” she says. “If there’s really a threat, then I want you focused on staying safe and not worrying about me. But Oliver… if there isn’t a threat and you’re just pushing me away… please don’t.” 

The bell rings for breakfast and a guard comes up to him to tell him he has to say goodbye. 

“I love you and I miss you. We’ll see each other soon,” he promises, hoping that it’s not a lie. 

****

Oliver sits in a corner of the cafeteria with his back to the wall, his eyes constantly scanning the room, assessing threats. He eats alone. It’s rare in the crowded cafeteria, but that’s a further testament to how many people in here can’t stand him that they’d rather crowd close together at other tables than come near him. It works out for Oliver. He doesn’t want to befriend anyone in this place. They are all criminals. Monsters. 

It’s funny, in a way. He spent so long lost in his monster. Then the moment he finally learns how to push it away and embrace the light, he’s thrown in this hellhole. The kind of place that can only be designed to bring out the worst in a man. The idea that prison is supposed to rehabilitate anyone is a laugh. This place isn’t here to help them become better men, it’s here to protect the public from them. 

Oliver hears the footsteps approaching and he knows by the sound of the shoes against the tile that it’s a guard. He looks down at his food and continues to eat, pretending that he doesn’t notice the guard now standing over his table. Anything this guard has to say to him, Oliver isn’t going to want to hear. They all just want attention. A story to tell about how they’d poked the bear. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of a reaction anymore. 

“So Queen, I haven’t seen that sexy ass woman of yours around here recently,” he says. 

It’s Crawley. Oliver bites his tongue. He definitely is looking for a reaction out of Oliver. He always takes any excuse he can get to use force against him. He pokes and he pokes at Oliver, trying to force him to act out. 

There are very few circumstances in which Oliver honestly thinks about beating up any of the guards. Most of them are just bitter, dissatisfied men who have projected their self-hatred onto him. At the end of the day, they aren’t great at their job, but they are still doing a job. And Oliver can’t be mad at a prison guard treating him like an inmate. 

Crawley is different. He’s corrupt. He befriends the criminals in this place and Oliver knows for a fact he helps them move product in and out of here. He uses violence against the inmates unnecessarily. And if he could get away with it, he would have murdered Oliver by now. At least two of the shivs that have made their way into his opponents hands have come from Crawley himself. 

“Don’t tell me that she finally left your sorry ass?” Crawley taunts. 

Oliver continues to eat his pasta, ignoring the man by replaying Die Hard in his head. It’s one of the tricks he’s learned to pass the time in this place. 

“Dear Oliver. Everyday that you spend in that cell and not here with William and me, breaks my heart,” he says. 

Oliver glances up to see that he’s reading a letter. There is a lined paper in his hand, and Oliver doesn't need to see the signature at the bottom of the page written next to a pink, lipstick stain kiss to know that it’s from Felicity. She always steals paper out of William’s binder to write to him. 

This asshole stole his letter from her. He’s also got a photograph in his hand. Oliver can just barely make out what it is as the light shines through it. It’s a photograph of Felicity and William. 

Oliver’s entire body tenses up as Crawley continues to read and the rest of the inmates start to take notice and turn to watch the entire thing. But other than that, Oliver doesn’t allow himself any further response. 

“It sounds like your girl is lonely, Queen,” Crawley says. Oliver’s skin starts to itch and his blood starts to boil. “I should pay her a visit. Sounds like she needs somebody to really pound her good.” 

The entire cafeteria laughs and Oliver’s fists curl up as he counts to ten in his head.  Crawley is just looking for him to go off, Oliver reminds himself. He wants Oliver to hit him first in front of witnesses, so that he can justify whatever plan he has to beat into him. Oliver can’t let him win, no matter what he might say. 

“We’ve all seen her come in wearing those dresses.” Crawley whistles. “You can’t tell me she isn’t begging for somebody to bend her over desk. That’s how you first had her, wasn’t it? She was your secretary? How many times did you have your way with her? I bet she’s good on her knees. Bet she’d give it to me good if I asked.” 

Oliver’s fists slam into the table and he finally meets Crawley’s eyes. 

“She’s too good for you,” Oliver says, trying to stay calm. His heart is pounding. There’s a brutal mix of rage and fear coursing through his veins. “She’d never go for you.” 

“Nobody said I had to ask,” Crawley says. “Next time she comes here, I’m fully intending to drag her into the break room and… well, you can figure out the rest.” 

Crawley slaps Oliver on the back and it takes literally everything in him not to grab the plastic fork in his hand and jam it into the man’s neck. The only thing keeping him from doing it now is the memory that Felicity is at home, safe. He’d called he this morning and told her not to come. Crawley can’t touch her. For now. 

“Maybe I’ll drive to Star City when my shift gets over and pay her a visit,” Crawley says. “I can make that boy of yours watch.” 

Oliver only sees red after that as he picks up his chair and slams it into Crawley’s chest, sending him flying into the wall. The force of it actually causes the wall to crack a bit. He grabs the fork off the table and presses it against the man’s neck as he holds him to the wall with his other arm. The prison only gives them plastic silverware for this very reason, but ARGUS taught him to do far worse than threaten with far less. 

“You go near my family and I promise you that you’ll regret it,” Oliver says. 

Another guard comes over and tries to pull him off of Crawley, but Oliver doesn’t budge. He’s in it now. He’s already threatened a prison guard. He may as well do it properly. 

“You’re in a supermax,” Crawley laughs as his eyes start to glaze over. There’s no way he doesn’t have a concussion. “What do you think you can do?” 

“I want you to really and truly think about that for a moment,” Oliver says. “I’m the Green Arrow. If you think that I can’t break out of here the second I want to, you’re sorely mistake. The walls aren’t the thing that’s holding me in here and if you go after my family, there is not a force in the world that will keep me from finding you.” 

At that, Oliver allows the other guard to pull him off of Crawley and place him in handcuffs. The entire cafeteria is in chaos as inmates stand on tables and shout. Several guards are trying to calm the inmates while two more rush to take care of Crawley, who’s slumped against the wall, really playing it up for the crowd. 

“Your life is over, Queen!” Crawley shouts. 

“Try me!” Oliver yells back as he’s being pulled out of the room. 

Several hours later, Oliver is sitting on his bed in solitary, reflecting on the entire thing. It had taken his body awhile to calm down. The anger coursing through his blood and the need to burn this entire place to the ground was strong. He was ready to start climbing the walls to get out of this place and hunt down the asshole that thought it was okay to even joke about going after his family. 

Now that he’s calmed down, however, he regrets rising to the bait. He’d fed right into Crawley’s hands and now there’s no telling how he’ll retaliate. It’s not that Oliver is worried about his safety. He can take care of himself. He’s just nervous about what he’s going to have to do in order to protect himself. Murdering a guard — even if he can convince the warden it was done in self defense — could land him a permanent spot in the shu. At minimum, he would be stuck here for months. He wouldn’t be allowed visitors. No phone calls. It wouldn't be fair to his family. 

None of this is fair to his family. This life isn’t sustainable. It had been naive of him to think it was. Oliver is going to be in jail for the rest of his life. He will never see the outside world again. He’ll never go home. 

Felicity needs a husband. A real husband. Somebody that can protect her properly from men like Crawley. Somebody that can be there for her to support her and help her in her daily life. He can’t do anything for her from jail. And William… God, William needs a parent. He has Felicity, and Oliver’s so relieved about that. But William needs a father. Every boy needs a father. What kind of father can Oliver be from jail? 

This life of theirs… it’s not sustainable. 

He can’t keep calling them up and cancelling visiting hours every time somebody in here decides to attack him. He can’t continue to lie to his wife about the reason why he’s cancelling on her. Honesty is a big thing for her. His lie had broken up their first engagement, and one of her stipulations for taking him back was that he be honest with her. He can’t do that. And she deserves better. 

His family deserves so much better than him. 

Oliver stands up and knocks on the door. The slit in the door slides open and Bill is on the other side. 

“You ready to talk about how you attacked a prison guard?” Bill asks. 

It’s not judgement. Bill isn’t happy about what Oliver did, but he has enough faith in him to know that Oliver didn’t go off on the man entirely unprovoked. Still, he’s not thrilled with Oliver’s decision. 

“I need you to do me a favor,” he says. 

Bill sighs. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a favor right now, Oliver. I need you to help me make sense of what you just did.” 

“I will, I promise,” Oliver says. “I just need to talk to Felicity first. There’s something I have to do.”

Bill shakes his head. “Even if I could get you a phone call, the look in your eyes tells me that would be a bad idea.” 

“Bill—” 

“Solitary is supposed to give inmates the time they need to cool down and reflect on their actions,” Bill says. “Clearly you need some more time, because you still look like you’re ready to pull the plug and blow the whole world apart. So no. I care about you too much to let you talk to your wife right now and do something stupid.” 

“Bill—” Oliver tries to plead with him, but he slams the metal slit shut and Oliver is left alone again. He pounds on the door several more times, but the only response he gets from Bill is that he’s doing this for Oliver’s own good. 

****

It’s two weeks later when Oliver is finally let out of the shu, but his resolve has not waivered. He knows what he has to do now. He sees the answer so clearly. The first thing he does upon release is go straight for the phones to call Felicity. 

“You attacked a guard!” Felicity shouts at him in lieu of a hello. 

“I see you did some research,” he says, trying to make light of the situation that really doesn't have any humor in it. 

“Two weeks, Oliver!” she shouts. “Two whole weeks of not being able to talk to you! What were you thinking!” 

“I’m sorry—” he starts to say but she cuts him off. 

“Didn’t we just talk about this?!” she yells. “I told you what I needed from you and the same day… The same very day that I told you that I needed to be able to see you more, you go off on a prison guard! You had to know that was going to get you thrown in solitary! So why?!” 

Oliver takes a deep breath and decides to just go for it. This isn’t going to get any easier, the longer he waits. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he says. 

She curses under her breath. 

“Okay, well fine,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper, like she’s somehow going to escape the prison monitoring systems. “Digg and I will come. Tonight. It’ll be fine.” 

She thinks that it’s prison he can’t deal with anymore. He shakes his head. 

“No… Not… I can’t do  _ this _ . Us,” he says quickly, needing the words out and done with. 

“I’m sorry?” She sounds taken back, and he can picture the look on her face, like she’s just been slapped. 

It feels like an elephant is sitting on his chest, but he has to soldier on. 

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he says, and she scoffs. “Felicity, can you honestly tell me that this is working for you?” 

“No, it’s not,” she says. “But if you would stop getting yourself thrown into solitary, then we could actually see each other.” 

Oliver pictures Felicity coming to visit him. He’s always noticed the suggestive way that the inmates watch her when she enters the room. Crawley’s threat scares him, but the longer he thought about it over the last two weeks, the more he realized that Crawley wasn’t the only person that scares him. Felicity has no business in a place like this. And even if he trusts her to take care of herself, and part of him does, this is no place for William. 

Spending their weekends driving four hours to visit a maximum security prison isn’t a life. What Felicity and William need is to be far away from this place so that they can be happy. And if he’s the only one strong enough to say it, then he’ll shoulder that burden for them. 

“I want a divorce,” he tells her flatly. 

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her voice is filled with suspicion. “What is going on, Oliver? Talk to me.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Oliver asks. “I’ve tried to be optimistic that this could work. It doesn’t. I’m never getting out of here and all you are doing by waiting for me to get out is putting your life on hold and in turn, William’s life. By constantly bringing him here, you’re not helping him let go.” 

“He’s your son! He shouldn’t have to let go,” Felicity says. “Jail doesn’t change the fact that you’re his father.” 

“What kind of father am I behind bars?” he asks. “We can’t be naive here. This isn’t working. You need to move on with your life. Get away from me. I’m only bringing you pain.” 

“So you’re just gonna give up?” she asks, her temper returning. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re throwing in the towel? No.” 

Oliver had suspected it would go down like this. He knew that she wasn’t going to take this well. She doesn’t like change, and this is going to play so much into her abandonment issues, but at the end of the day, he knows this is better for her. He’s already abandoned her by getting put in prison. All staying married is doing is prolonging the pain of that abandonment. By giving her a divorce, she can protest, scream, and cry about it. But eventually, she’ll get over it. 

She can move on. She can start a new life. She can help William start a new life. They can both be happy and healthy. Felicity is more than capable of making sure that William has a good life. He trusts her. 

This is the right thing to do. 

“I’ll contact Jean and have papers drawn up,” Oliver says, hanging up on Felicity before she can protest further and convince him to change his mind. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in a move that will surprise nobody that knows me- this story has moved from two to three chapters because Oliver and Felicity were having a lot of feelings and this got long. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ I need the calm, forgiving peace that only comes from my family _ —  _ “Home”  _ Aron Wright

______

Felicity stares at the ceiling, watching the sunlight dance across it. It’s morning. She hasn’t slept a wink. She’s been up all night, alternating between crying hysterically into her pillow, muttering profanities at Oliver’s side of the bed, and replaying the conversation with Oliver over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of it. 

“Oliver wants a divorce,” she whispers. 

She can say it, but the words don’t feel right on her tongue. 

She’s no closer to processing what happened now than she was last night. 

Oliver —  _ her _ Oliver — wants a divorce. 

It just doesn't seem possible. 

He loves her. She knows that much is true. This marriage is everything to him. She’d never seen him happier than he’s been in the months since she agreed to become his wife. All of the fighting he’s done this year has been to make sure that he had a future with her. William and her have been his light at the end of the tunnel. He’s told her enough times and shown that deep love in so many ways that it’s impossible not to feel that fact deep in her bones. A man doesn’t agree to a life in prison to protect a family he doesn’t care about. 

Love isn’t the issue with their marriage. He’s not asking for a divorce because he doesn’t love her anymore. If he was, this would be so much easier. 

She closes her eyes tight to stop the oncoming wave of tears. She’d hoped that she’d been cried out, but it seems like her body will always be able to produce more tears for Oliver. Her head pounds. Her body is exhausted. She feels hollow inside, and still, more tears come. 

“You are such a jackass,” she says through gritted teeth as her shoulders shake. She rolls over and buries her head into his pillow and lets herself cry. 

She doesn’t understand why he would do this. 

She takes that back. Oliver is a self-sabotaging idiot that can’t go a week without doing something to blow his world to hell. He feels the pain of others deeply. The weight of the world has been on his shoulders since the day she met him. She’d hoped that marriage would change that. That he would allow her to help shoulder that burden, but that had been stupid. Of course Oliver was always going to be Oliver. 

She’s not surprised that he’s asked for a divorce. Especially not if he’s convinced himself that it’s for Felicity and William’s own good. But that doesn’t mean that she can’t be furious with him about it. 

She’s tried so hard to be understanding through this entire process. She’s seen first hand how serious panic attacks can be with Oliver. So she understood when he said that he couldn’t look at her after he made the FBI deal without feeling like he was going to panic. 

And Felicity can’t imagine what life in prison is like. She’s read the horror stories online about solitary confinement. A man with as much trauma as Oliver has, is bound to break in a place like Slabside. This is Oliver tossing the people he loves out of his life and shutting himself away. He’d done it when Tommy died. He’d done it when Moira died. And he’s doing it again now. 

If she can separate her emotions out of it, Felicity knows her husband well enough to understand all of his awful behavior for the last several months. Logicially, it seems inevitable that he was going to ask for a divorce one day. 

But she shouldn’t have to understand. None of this is okay. What Oliver did in giving himself over to the FBI without talking to her is unacceptable. Terrified or not, near panic or not, he owed her an explanation. She shouldn’t sound like a battered wife every time she has to make an excuse to her friends and family about Oliver’s behavior. And she damn well shouldn’t have to listen to the love of her life tell her that her life would be better without him. 

She is his wife. They took vows. For better or for worse. And Diaz was a whole lot of worse, she can admit that. But they were supposed to get through it together. They were supposed to lean on each other for support. But, like always, Oliver leans on nobody but himself. He’d kicked her off of the team. He’d tried to sideline her by suddenly changing the rules on her. It was unfair. And she’d thought — she’d really and truly thought that he’d realized his mistake when he’d apologized that night they were stuck in the ARGUS bunker. 

But then he went and made the deal with Watson without consulting her. And he hadn’t even told her about it. He’d let her find out about it as the FBI was putting him into handcuffs. 

And now, he has the nerve to ask her for a divorce? To tell her that she needs to divorce him so that she and William can move on? There is no moving on in a marriage! 

She hates it. 

She hates him. 

The entire thing is stupid. 

Oliver is stupid. 

And Felicity is exhausted. 

She runs her hands through her hair in frustration, tugging at the ends as she continues to cry. 

After everything, after all of the shit that he’s pulled, Oliver doesn’t get to ask for a divorce. And he certainly doesn’t get to hang up on her and end a conversation like he did... Like she doesn’t get a say in the matter. That is not how a marriage works. She deserves more from him. 

So much more. 

She sobs into her pillow for another thirty minutes before she finally decides to stop feeling sorry for herself and gets up to go shower. 

She’s pulling on her jeans, not having the energy to attempt a dress, when the doorbell rings. She quickly throws on a sweater as the lights flicker and a loud alarm sounds. 

Felicity steps out into the living room and sees that William is standing at the door and Jean Loring is on the other side with her hands up to her ears. 

“Sorry,” Felicity says, walking over to the door as the alarm shuts off. “Security measures, I’m sure you understand.” 

Felicity had upgraded the alarm system on all the doors and windows last week. This way, William can’t sneak out of the house without her knowing it. She’d also changed all the coding to make sure it was way too advanced for him to be able to hack his way in and bypass the system. She knows that it won’t hold William back for long — he’s too much like his father for his own good — but it’s something. 

“May I come in,” Jean asks. 

Felicity’s heart sinks. She knows why the woman is here. She knows exactly what is inside the manilla envelope that she has tucked under her arm. Part of her had hoped that Oliver wasn’t serious, that he wouldn't follow through… She should have known better. 

“I don’t really see the point,” Felicity says. “I’m not signing them. You can tell Oliver to take those papers and shove them up his ass.” 

Jean gasps and William snorts. 

“I thought we weren’t supposed to swear,” William says. 

“Well when your father is being a jackass, I think some strong language is warranted,” Felicity says to William. She turns back to Jean. “I apologize that you had to drive all the way over here, but it was a wasted trip.” 

“Felicity—” 

Felicity holds up her hand to cut the woman off as her eyes sting with unshed tears. 

“I would invite you in, but I believe you have a client to go disappoint and it’s a four hour drive, so… Have a good day,” she says, shutting the door on the woman, not caring about how rude it is. 

She slumps against the door and takes several deep breaths. 

“What’s going on?” William asks. 

Felicity shakes her head. “It’s nothing. Why don’t you go play video games in your room. Breakfast won’t be ready for a bit.” 

“Felicity,” William says sharply. “Why was Dad’s lawyer here?” 

She looks up at him, ready to lie, but the look on his face stops her. He’s terrified. She can see the wheels spinning in his head and she’s worried about what kind of horrible scenario he’s putting together without any facts. Felicity remembers what it’s like to be a kid that’s too smart for their own good. She remembers the frustration she used to feel when her mother wouldn’t tell her things because she was too young. 

She sighs. 

“Your dad asked me for a divorce yesterday,” she admits. 

“What?” William asks, shocked. “But... I don’t understand.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about it, William,” she says. “It’s between your father and I, and I’m not signing the papers anyways, so…” 

“But where would I go?” he asks, his voice cracking as he shakes his head. His eyes are wide and she can see the signs of panic setting in. 

“Hey, hey,” she says carefully, reaching out to place her hands on his shoulders. “You wouldn’t go anywhere.” 

“But if you got a divorce then—” 

“We are not getting a divorce,” she says firmly. “And even if we did, this is your home. Whatever issues there are between your father and I, that doesn’t change anything between us. Okay?” 

“But I’m not your kid, Felicity,” he says, his hands flying around as his bottom lip begins to tremble. “Why would you keep me here if you aren’t married to Dad?” 

Felicity’s hands go to his face as she forces him to look at her. “Family is not blood. It’s love,” she says carefully, making sure he hears every word. “And I love you, William.” 

“Why?” he asks, tears falling down his cheeks. “I’ve been awful to you.” 

“Yeah,” she chuckles, even though nothing about this is funny. “Well, you’re a kid. It’s kind of your job. You should have heard the things I used to say to my mom.” 

William wraps his arms around her as he cries into her shoulder. 

“Please don’t kick me out, I’ll be better,” he says. 

Felicity’s arms tighten around him before one hand moves to run her fingers through his hair. Oliver always says that movement comforts him. She hopes it does the same for William. 

“That was never an option, Kiddo,” she says, placing a kiss to the top of his head. 

It takes several minutes, but eventually William calms down enough to step out of her arms. He wipes his face with his sleeve. 

“Do you want help with breakfast?” he asks. 

It’s been awhile since William has offered to do any help around the house without having to be told to. She smiles at the offer. It reminds her a bit of how it used to be, back before their world was set ablaze and she had to watch the foundations they’d been building for their family quickly turn to ash. 

“That would be great,” she says with a smile. “Why don’t you get the mixture ready for the french toast?” 

It’s the only breakfast food she can cook without burning. 

“If you want, I could make omelettes,” he offers. 

“Yeah?” she asks and he nods. 

“Dad showed me how.” 

The words stab at her heart as she pictures Oliver standing in the kitchen with William on the last night they’d had together as a family. William had been put in charge of the eggs while Oliver supervised. Oliver had wanted one night… And Diaz couldn’t even give them that. 

Her throat feels tight with emotion as she says, “That would be great.” 

William gives her a strange look, but thankfully doesn’t comment further. It’s for the best. Felicity can’t stop seeing the wild look of panic in Oliver’s eyes as he asks them if they are okay. She’s never heard him sound so terrified in her life. Of all the fights Oliver has been in, she’s never seen that look on his face before. She knows, in her heart, that was the moment she lost him. 

He might not have decided in that moment to make the deal with Watson, but the panic that resulted from being attacked in their own home was the trigger. Oliver retreated into himself, then and there. He’d gone back to that island. 

Felicity replays that minute of her life over and over in her mind as she sets the table. It seems crazy that it only took about 60 seconds to turn their entire world upside down. She hears the gunfire. Remembers how William had been trembling in her arms. She feels her heartbeat race like it had in that moment. 

And she sees the panic in Oliver’s eyes. 

It’s that look that she can’t let go of. 

She breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth as she grabs the silverware from the kitchen and brings it over to the table. Her bottom lip trembles, but she holds it together. She’s finally making some progress with William after months of effort. She isn’t going to ruin it by crying over her issues with his dad. 

“Felicity?” William asks as he plates the first omelette and starts in on the second. 

He looks so comfortable moving around the kitchen and it’s impossible not to see Oliver in his movements. The similarities are both a blessing and a curse. In one way, it’s a reminder of everything that she’s lost. In another way, she is happy to still have a piece of Oliver with her. 

“Felicity,” William says again, carefully. 

“Yeah?” She tries to smile so that he’ll stop looking at her like that. 

“Why is Dad asking you for a divorce?” he asks. 

The fork she’d been about to set down slips out of her hands. She quickly grabs it and places it where it goes. She then moves the napkin to the other side of the plate and fiddles with the place setting. She’s stalling for time as she tries to figure out how to respond. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” William says, sounding disappointed. 

Felicity sighs. 

“No.. It’s alright.” She searches for a way to explain this to William when she still can’t quite make sense of it all herself. “I think your dad is just having a rough time in prison. It’s hard for him. He’s always prided himself on being able to take care of the people he loves and he doesn’t feel like he can do that from prison. I think, in his own way, he thinks he’s doing the right thing by letting me go.” 

“That’s stupid,” he says. 

Felicity chuckles as she wipes a tear from her cheek. “Yeah.” 

He doesn’t press any further and Felicity doesn’t offer up any additional explanation. William finishes the second omelette and plates it, bringing both plates over to the table. They sit down to eat. 

“He’s really going to be in there forever, isn’t he?” William asks, his voice small and unsure, like he doesn't know if he wants the answer to his question or not. 

“He’s serving a life sentence,” she reminds him, carefully. 

“Well yeah, but he’s the Green Arrow,” he argues. “He can’t… I mean… I guess I just thought that he’d eventually get out.” 

Felicity reaches out and takes hold of his hand, squeezing it in comfort. 

“He still might,” she says. She refuses to give up hope. 

William pulls his hand out of hers. “He asked you for a divorce,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to explain something to a toddler. “Dad’s not planning on ever getting out.” 

He stands up, breakfast completely forgotten, and storms off to his bedroom. 

Felicity rubs at her temples as she tries to ignore the building migraine that comes from sheer exhaustion. 

Why does it always have to be one step forward and three steps back? 

****

Oliver sits on his bed, staring blankly at the wall ahead of him, refusing to think or feel anything. There’s a hollowness in his chest and the cell feels especially cold this evening as his finger dances across the photo in his hand. Even though he knows that he’s done what needed to be done, he still hates it. 

Oliver had allowed hope into his life. Somewhere between “My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood,” and driving off into the sunset with Felicity, he’d allowed a dream of happily ever after with white picket fences and 2.5 kids to sink in. Despite everything that he’d learned from five years away, he’d started to see a future for himself. He’d allowed himself to picture a life after the hood. 

And it’s that hope that makes this imprisonment so much worse than anything else that he’s had to endure. Because he’d had his happily ever after at the tip of his fingertips… He had the loving wife… He had the growing relationship with his boy… He had everything he needed to build a real life for himself. And now it’s all gone. 

The old saying, ‘it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all,’ is wrong. Having loved and lost makes his current situation so much more hopeless than it would have been if he had never opened his heart in the first place. 

Oliver looks down at the photo in his hands. Felicity and William are smiling back at him as they both hold Xbox controllers. The picture had been snapped before they were married. It was one of the first nights that Felicity had stayed over. Oliver had woken up to an empty bed, worried that she’d pulled a disappearing act on him. His insecurities had been running wild as he tried to figure out exactly what part of all the domesticity she’d freaked out at. But when he’d entered the living room, it had been to find his two favorite people battling it out over some video game in the middle of the night. Apparently, William had had trouble sleeping and they’d run into each other in the kitchen, both looking for a glass of water at the same time. 

Oliver hadn’t been able to stop himself from snapping a picture of them on his phone. It had been one of the first times he’d truly felt like they were building a real family. 

His stomach starts to flip and emotion fills his chest, but he pushes it down. He looks away from the photo and back up at the blank wall. He doesn’t get to be upset. He’d created this bed. Now he can lay in it. 

Inmates yell at him from across the way, but Oliver tunes them out. He’s always hyper-aware of everything when he’s in his cell, but today it is just too much. He doesn’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter that he’s only just come out of the shu that morning and that Crowley has to be plotting his revenge. If somebody wants to jump him, they can try. He’s too tired to keep his head on a constant swivel. 

He thinks it might be easier on everyone if he just lets them kill him. This isn’t a life he wants to lead. Not without his family. 

He lays back in his bed and closes his eyes. In his dreams, he can pretend that he hasn’t lost everything that he holds dear. In his dreams, he can be the man he’d promised his wife he would be. He could be the father that he’d promised his son he would be. 

He lays there for nearly fifteen minutes before a shadow falls over him and Oliver is impressed that it actually took anyone that long to decide to come and attack him. After all, the guards had left his cell wide open. 

“If you’ve come to kill me, you’ve picked a good day,” Oliver says. “I’m not in the mood to fight back.” 

“Get up,” the gruff voice says. 

Oliver doesn't respond. He doesn't even open his eyes. 

“I said get up, Queen,” the voice says again. “You have a visitor.” 

It’s not possible. Visiting hours are over. It’s clearly a ploy. Oliver wonders what kind of plan Crawley has put in place that he has to drag Oliver out of his cell to do it. Can’t they just save him the walk and kill him in his cell? 

An arm grabs him and pulls him out of his bed, Oliver doesn’t put up a fight. He does, however, open his eyes to see that the man who’d grabbed him is a guard. He’s one of the young ones whose name Oliver has never bothered to learn. 

“Let’s go,” the guard — Culbertson, Oliver reads his name tag — says.  

Oliver stands up and glares at the man. He has no interest in coming. As Oliver looks into the kid’s eyes, he sees fear. But the way that his eyes keep darting towards the door tell Oliver that it’s not him that the boy is scared of. 

“Fine,” he grumbles. The last thing Oliver wants to do is put a poor kid on Crawley’s bad side. 

The entire walk through the cell block, Oliver debates the merits of fighting back. On one hand, giving up sounds rather freeing. But on the other hand, Oliver isn’t sure he wants to give Crawley the satisfaction. 

They continue through the halls and Oliver is surprised to see that the kid is genuinely walking him in the direction of the visitor’s area. 

“Where are we going?” Oliver asks, trying to figure out why Crawley would jump him in one of the visitor’s rooms. It seems like an awful lot of blood to clean up in one of the few spaces that the prison tries to keep looking presentable. 

“I told you, you have a visitor,” Culbertson says. 

None of this makes any sense. Visiting hours were over several hours ago. It’s not until the kid is leading him into a room that Oliver puts the pieces together. 

“Hello, Mr. Queen,” Samandra Watson says, staring him down with her arms crossed. 

Oliver stands in the doorway, shocked, until the kid pushes him into the room and over to the table. He gets Oliver to sit in a chair and is about to re-handcuff him to the table, when Watson says, “There’s no need for that.” 

“Uh… you’ve read his file, right?” Culbertson eyes her. 

“There’s no need for that,” Watson repeats herself firmly and the kid nods, hurring out like a dog with his tail between his legs. The door shuts behind him and it echos in the barren room. 

“What do you want?” Oliver bites. He’s not in a very charitable mood considering she is the entire reason that he’s in this place. 

“I need your help,” she says, to which Oliver scoffs. “It seems that there might be a use for the Green Arrow after all.” 

“I’m retired,” he snaps. Because she has to be kidding him with this. She doesn’t get to rip his entire life away from him with a pair of handcuffs and throw him into a place like this for life, then come asking him for a favor. He doesn’t owe her anything. 

“I can understand why you might be upset with me,” Watson says. “I’m hoping you won’t let that anger impact the case. There’s a target that we need your help taking down.” 

“I don’t do that anymore. If you couldn’t tell, I’m wearing a different kind of uniform these days,” he says, gesturing down to his prison attire. 

She is giving off serious Waller vibes right now. It’s giving Oliver PTSD just thinking about it. He is ready to tell her to go to hell when she says something that nearly has his jaw dropping to the floor. 

“The federal government is prepared to reduce your sentence to time served in exchange for this favor,” Watson says. 

“Come again?” 

****

Felicity stands over William as she tilts his head to the left so that the light will hit his wound better. He had come home from school with a serious gash above his eye and an incredibly horrible lie about falling off the bus. 

“You know your father used to think he could pull one over on me as well,” she tells him as she cleans out the wound. 

“He told me that the first time you met, he convinced you that he spilled a latte on a computer,” William says. 

Felicity snorts. “Convinced isn’t the word I would use. I didn’t buy his lie.” 

“So why didn’t you question it?” he asks, wincing as she pulls a piece of gravel out of the wound with tweezers. 

“Because his name was on the building,” she admits. 

“And you thought he was cute,” William teases. 

Felicity blushes. “I may have let him charm me more than I should have… but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, I don’t buy that you fell off the bus any more than I bought your dad telling me that a bullet ridden laptop was due to the fact that his coffee shop was in a bad neighborhood.” 

William instantly drops the teasing smile on his face and his eyes grow distant. He’s shutting her out. Again. 

“I can get on my tablet and track where you’ve been today, Will, or you can just tell me,” she says, putting the tweezers aside and crossing her arms. She knows that he was out playing vigilante again. She just needs him to tell her what he was doing so that she can figure out how livid she really needs to be. 

William doesn’t say anything for several minutes, but Felicity doesn’t budge. She continues to stare him down and wait him out knowing that eventually he has to crack. And eventually, he does. 

“I was walking home from school because I missed the bus,” he says, to which she can only scoff. “Truly. Ms. York was lecturing me about being tardy and I didn’t make it out to the bus in time. I didn’t want to have to tell you that I missed the bus because I got in trouble at school, so I decided to walk.” 

“Okay…” she says, choosing to believe him for the time being. She can easily find out from Ms. York later if that is indeed the case. 

“Well a few blocks away from school, I heard a girl cry out for help and so I followed the sound. Some jerk had her backed into an alley. I tried to help.” 

“William—” she’s about to start lecturing him, but he cuts her off. 

“No, okay? I did a good thing!” he argues. “I helped that girl. I fought that guy off.” 

“And this gash in your head?” she asks. 

“He pushed me into a dumpster,” he admits, but before she can say anything, he adds, “But I’m fine! You said yourself that it’s just a few stitches. That girl was terrified and he was going to hurt her. I don’t think that a scar on my face is that big of a deal compared to that.” 

“That’s not the point,” she says, sighing deeply. “Do you realize how differently that could have gone? What if he’d had a gun?” 

“Then he’d have had a gun,” he says with a shrug, like he doesn’t care. 

Felicity takes a deep breath and tries to think about what Oliver would say to William. He’d be worried. He’d be panicking internally, much like she does every time she finds out that William went out into the field. But he wouldn't yell. He’d seethe internally, sure. But even in all the arguments she’s had with Oliver over the years about her going out into the field, he’s never truly yelled. He’s simply tried to convince her that it isn’t necessary and begged her not to go. Those talks never worked on her. She wonders if they would have worked on William. 

“Don’t you care that you could have died?” she asks. 

He shrugs and Felicity’s heart sinks. It feels like rocks fill her stomach. “Better me than somebody else with a family at home.” 

Felicity’s throat feels too tight, but she forces herself to say, “No.” 

She shakes her head and blinks back tears. “I know that your father is in jail right now, but he would be devastated if anything ever happened to you. You have to know that. And I would be devastated. You’re my family, too, William.” 

Whatever tension he’d been carrying around in his shoulders leaves his body at her words. He doesn’t argue with her any further. 

There are about a thousand other things that she wants to say to him right now, but she doesn’t know how to say them in a way that he’ll listen. 

She grabs the needle and tilts his head up so that the light will hit his wound just right and starts his sutures. 

“I’m trying to picture your father’s face when he learns about how you got this injury,” she says as she finishes up the last of his stitches and places gauze over it so it’ll stay clean. 

“It can’t be any worse than any of the injuries he has,” William says. 

Felicity smiles down at him sadly. He has no idea. 

“No, it’ll be worse,” she tells him. “To your dad, this will be a million times worse. You’re his entire world. If doesn’t matter how many times he’s been hurt, this will be worse. Whenever his loved ones get injured, he carries that guilt around with him and doesn’t know how to let it go.” 

“I’m not doing this to hurt him,” he says quietly, his eyes glued to the floor as she cleans up the medical supplies. 

“I hope not,” she says. She isn’t entirely convinced of that fact. 

The doorbell rings and Felicity looks over at William, confused. She wasn't expecting anyone. The look of confusion on his face tells her that he wasn’t either. She walks over to the door and peaks out to see who it is. She’s surprised to see Roy standing on the other side. 

She quickly disables the security system and opens the door for him. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling him into a hug. 

“Well Raisa called Thea about Arrow 2.0 over here,” Roy says, pointing over at William. “So Thea sent me.” 

“As a babysitter?” William walks over with his arms crossed. “No thanks.” 

“Well, with that scowl on your face, you’re clearly your father’s son,” Roy says, stepping into the loft and setting his bag down. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing here. We’re all family, right?” 

“Of course,” Felicity says before catching the smirk on his face at his words. “Wait… Are we? Did you both…” Felicity looks down at Roy’s hand and sees a wedding ring and yelps. “Oh my god! You guys got married and you didn’t even tell us!” 

She reaches out and smacks his arm. “Why didn’t you tell us?!” 

“I tried to get her to fly you guys out, but with Oliver in jail and the rest of her family gone, it was a whole emotional thing and she didn’t want to do a whole wedding, so…” 

“And you weren’t going to complain about not having to be involved in a Thea Queen production,” Felicity says knowingly. 

“Yeah, no,” he says with a laugh. “We got married by a priest in this tiny little chapel in Argentina. It was great.” 

“Argentina, huh?”

“Did you find more of those pit things or whatever you were looking for?” William asks. 

Felicity gives William a look. “How did you know that’s where Thea and Roy went?” 

William shrugs. “You and Dad aren’t always as quiet as you think.” 

“Oh dear god, I hope that’s not true,” Roy says with a laugh, causing Felicity to smack him again. 

“How long are you staying for?” she asks as they all walk further into the house to take a seat in the living room. 

“I don’t have a return ticket,” Roy says. “I’m here to take over as Green Arrow as long as I’m needed.” 

William crosses his arms. “If Aunt Thea thinks I’m going to stop just because you’re here, she doesn’t know the first thing about me.” 

Roy leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I suspect she knows a lot about you. See, she grew up with Oliver, and from what I can tell, you’re a lot like him.” 

“Then you understand that I can’t just sit back and do nothing,” William says. 

Felicity is about to interject that he’s too young, but Roy holds his hand up to stop her. 

“You know, I grew up in the Glades,” Roy says. “I know you probably are too young to get what that means. You didn’t live here before vigilantes were a thing. But the Glades used to be a pretty rough place to grow up. I got involved in a lot of bad stuff. I actually met your aunt because I stole her purse.” 

“You did what?” William asks, looking at Roy in disgust. 

Roy just laughs. “It doesn’t really matter. Thea forgave me long ago,” he says holding his left hand up to show off his wedding ring. “And that’s not who I am anymore.” 

“What changed?” William asks. 

“Your dad,” he says. “He took me in, trained me, and gave me a purpose.” 

Felicity frowns. Roy is supposed to be talking William out of wanting to be a vigilante, not encouraging him. 

“If you’re getting to a point, you should do it soon,” she says. 

“I’m just saying, I get it,” Roy says. “You want to help.” 

William looks over at Felicity tentatively before he sits up and leans in closer to Roy. “Dad told me that he put on the hood to honor his dad after he died. I want to honor my mom. And I want to help keep Dad’s legacy alive. He fought to save this city and he was put in prison for it. I can’t let him be in prison for nothing. I need to keep the city safe.” 

“That’s not your responsibility,” Felicity argues, but Roy holds up his hand again to stop her. She’s going to break that hand of his right off if he doesn’t quit doing that. 

“You’re not going to talk him out of it, Felicity,” Roy says. “Just like nobody was able to talk me out of it.” 

William starts to smile, but Roy shoots him down really quick. “The thing is, your dad didn’t let me suit up until I was fully trained.” 

“Then train me,” William says. 

“No,” Felicity says at the same time Roy says, “You’re not old enough.” 

William protests loudly, and Felicity can see that they are losing him. It’s the same argument they always end up in. 

“Fine,” Roy says. 

“Roy!” she argues, glaring at him. This isn’t something that he gets a say in. Oliver entrusted William’s care to her and she’s going to be damned if she lets this happen. 

“I’ll teach you how to shoot,” Roy says. “We can train together but I have one condition.” 

“Anything!” William says, eagerly. 

“You don’t suit up until you’re at least 18,” he says, firmly. “Until then, you’re going to have to trust me to take care of the city for your old man.” 

William doesn’t answer right away as he debates the merits of hanging up the hood for the next few years. Felicity doesn’t like any plan in which William learns out to fight. Not after his track record for ignoring the rules and going out into the field. However, she doesn’t know how long she’s going to be able to keep him safe if they keep going at this the way that they’ve been going. 

“Deal,” William agrees. Felicity doesn’t buy the sincerity of his statement, but tells herself that she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. So far, she hasn’t been able to get through to him. So maybe spending time with Roy will. 

****

Oliver steps off of the plane, careful not to trip over the chains around his ankles. There are two guards on either side of him, keeping him in line, and a third behind him carrying an assault rifle. It seems a little extreme to him. After all, if he’d wanted to escape, he would have done it from the comfort of his own cell. He’s not about to blow up his chances at freedom by running away now. 

“Good morning, Mr. Queen,” Watson says with that self-satisfied smile on her face that he hates so much. “How was your flight?” 

“Are you planning on keeping these on the entire time?” Oliver asks, holding up his wrists to show the handcuffs that are currently chained to his waist. 

“Just wanted to make sure that you arrived on schedule,” she says. 

“If I wanted to run, these handcuffs wouldn’t keep me,” he says with a raised eyebrow. She, more than most, should be well acquainted with his skillset. 

Watson nods to one of the guards and they pull out their keys to unlock his cuffs. Oliver rubs his wrists as the shackles are removed. 

“So where are we?” he asks, looking around, taking in his surroundings. They’d drugged him for part of the flight, so he can’t be entirely sure how far away they’ve flown. To the left are woods filled with pine trees. In the distance, there are mountains. This, plus the weather, has him suspecting that they are still somewhere in the pacific northwest. 

“That’s not information you need,” she says, causing him to roll his eyes. “Let’s go. The team is waiting to debrief you.” 

The three guards continue to follow him into the car with Watson, and then sit on either side from him as the armed guard sits across from him. He’s tempted to joke, if she really doesn’t trust him, that she should just do what Waller did and put an implant in his skull. However, she probably would, so he keeps that suggestion to himself. 

They drive for about fifteen minutes into the woods before they stop at a small cabin by the water. Oliver follows Watson out of the car and up the steps to the porch before she stops just shy of the door and turns to him. 

“I’m going to remind you that you’re here as a guest, serving in an advisory position,” she informs him, crossing her arms in an attempt to appear tougher. It’s unnecessary. She holds the key to his freedom and any chance he has at being with his family again. He takes her seriously enough without all the bravado. “This is not the Green Arrow show.” 

She continues to stare him down and it becomes obvious that she’s waiting for an acknowledgement on his part. 

“Noted,” he says. 

She leads him into the cabin where monitors are set up at several desks while close to ten men sit around in a circle having a discussion. 

“Gentlemen,” Watson says, getting their attention. “May I introduce you to Oliver Queen.” 

All eyes in the room go to him and he very quickly learns that none of them are friendly. It’s obvious that bringing him into the fold wasn’t any of their idea and he is not a welcome addition to the team. Oliver stands up taller, squaring his shoulders. He may not have the sheer muscle mass that he used to have thanks to the crap Slabside considers food, but he still has a decent amount of his former build and he knows how to use his size to intimidate. From Oliver’s experience there isn’t a lot of difference between how things operate inside a prison and in the outside world. Men respect power. Even if they don’t always like it, they’ll submit to it. 

“Cade, get Queen up to speed,” Watson orders. 

A smaller agent wearing glasses stands up. Oliver can only assume he is the tech analyst and not a field agent, based on the awkward way he holds himself. 

“For the past two years, the bureau has been infiltrating a sex trafficking ring being run across state and international borders,” Cade starts to explain as he walks a tablet over to hand to Oliver. “We’ve been able to trace the money back to the Russians.” 

“The Bratva?” Oliver asks, wondering if that is the reason he’s been brought into this. To his knowledge, the Bratva doesn’t participate in sex trafficking. They make their money through drugs, laundering, and gambling. Granted, a lot could have changed since Anatoly was pushed into exile. 

Cade shakes his head. “No,” he says. “It’s something else. Something new.” 

“Okay,” Oliver says, swiping through the information on the tablet. “So what? You’re finally ready to take them down?” 

“Not quite,” Cade explains. “See, two weeks ago, we caught wind of a new shipment of girls.” 

The way Cade says it while shifting back and forth on his feet mixed with the way everyone else keeps glancing around nervously, has Oliver realizing that this isn’t just another batch of teenage runaways who’d been lured in with the promise of a roof over their heads and a warm meal. 

“Who?” he asks. 

“Mia Brayden,” Cade says quietly, as if somehow somebody might be listening in from the outside. 

“Mia Bray… Wait, Susan Brayden’s daughter? The president’s daughter?” Oliver says shocked. “How is this not all over the news?” 

“Mia was vacationing in Europe,” Cade explains. “She has a reputation for being a bit of a wild child and she ran away from the Secret Service detail there. As far as the president is aware, her daughter is holed up in a room somewhere, getting high and avoiding detection.” 

“You haven’t told the President of the United States that her daughter has been taken in by sex trafficking ring?” Oliver asks, horrified. He can’t be a part of this. If the president were to find out, he’d be executed. 

“It’s not just a sex trafficking ring,” one of the other agents speaks up. “We have reason to believe that they are conspiring to commit acts of terrorism against this country. The trafficking ring is their way of funding it.” 

“You don’t think that the president deserves to know that her daughter got kidnapped?” Oliver practically yells. He still remembers the fear that ran through him both times that William was kidnapped. He can’t imagine his boy being out there, hurting, and not even knowing about it. Oliver can only imagine how angry President Brayden is going to be when she finds out and he wants no part of it. 

“The president is currently at a peace summit with North Korea brokering a deal that would dismantle the nuclear program there. If she knew that her daughter had been taken, she would be compromised and have to declare herself temporarily incapacitated. Do you really think now is the best time for that?” one of the agents says. 

“That’s not your call to make,” Oliver says. 

“Do you want to pick up the phone and call her? Let the vice president take over brokering the deal with Korea? We all know how swimmingly Kim Jong-un gets along with the VP,” Watson says. 

“This isn’t right,” he argues. 

“We’ll tell her,” Cade assures him. “But not until we have a solid plan to get her daughter out of there.” 

“And do you?” he asks, crossing his arms. Everyone looks to him and Oliver realizes that he’s their plan. Which is slightly terrifying, because if a room full of trained agents have turned to him, the situation must be impossible. 

“Two of our undercover agents tried to rescue her last week,” Cade explains. “They were made and killed.” 

“Three days ago, Homeland Security sent four of our agents in to rescue her,” another agent stands up. 

“Homeland Security? I thought this was an FBI mission,” he asks. 

“It was,” Watson says. “But the Secret Service and all of Homeland Security was brought in the moment Mia became part of the picture.” 

Oliver looks the agent that stood up over. He’s big, burly, and dressed in a black suit. He certainly looks self-important enough to be a member of the secret service. 

“So what happened to the agents that went in?” he asks, though he can wager a guess. If they’d been successful, Oliver wouldn’t be here right now. 

“They were also made and killed. Mia’s true identity was uncovered,” the agent explains. “They have expedited things. We intercepted communications that tell us they are planning a special auction just for her next week. We believe that ISIS is going to make a bid and they have the deepest pockets.” 

Oliver’s heart drops at the news. There isn’t any way in hell they can let that poor girl get sold off to ISIS. She’ll be executed on national television and there’s no telling what that will do to the country. 

“So what am I supposed to do?” he asks, cautiously. 

“Find a way to stop it,” Watson says, matter of factly. 

“You want me to single handedly walk into a terrorist cell and rescue the first daughter when neither the FBI or Homeland Security has been able to accomplish as much with all of your resources?” he asks, looking at her like she’s crazy. 

“From what I hear it can’t be any worse than anything you’ve gone up against before,” she informs him. 

“And if I fail?” he asks. She has no answer and Oliver can only scoff. “Then your hands are clean? Right? And what happens to me?” 

“If you live?” one of the agents says without any ounce of sympathy.

“You called me in because it’s a suicide mission,” Oliver says, his heart beating wildly as suddenly all of this makes so much sense. The extreme secrecy, threatening to pull his deal completely if he tells anyone — especially his family. Nobody expects him to survive this and the government has no intention of taking responsibility for his death. Oliver guarantees if he ends up dying, they’ll make it look like he got killed by another inmate. She called him in to make sure, no matter the outcome, her hands are clean. 

Nobody answers him, which confirms it. 

This is the FBI’s version of the Suicide Squad. 

“So I have to save her on my own?” he asks. “I can’t have anyone’s help?” 

“You can’t call in your team if that’s what you’re asking for,” she informs him. 

“I’m not asking for my team,” Oliver says. If he’s going to die on this mission, part of him would rather his team not know about it. “But if you’re wanting me to waltz into a Russian terrorist cell and rescue the first daughter, I’m going to need a Russian.” 

Watson gives him a knowing look, thoroughly annoyed. “Mr. Knyazev has been extradited.” 

“You managed to figure out a way to pull me out of prison, I’m sure you can figure this one out, too,” Oliver says, unwilling to budge. 

Watson looks to the three guards that escorted Oliver here and says, “Take Queen back to Slabside.” 

Oliver scoffs. “That’s it? Deal’s off?” 

“No, Mr. Queen,” Watson says. “It’s going to take at least 36 hours to get Knyazev here and so I’m sending you back to your cell for the time being.”

“Because god forbid anyone discover I’m missing from my cell and start asking questions,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“I suggest you take the time to think,” she informs him. “When we call you back in here, you are to have a plan in place. Take the time on your flight back to review the intel and figure out the best course of action.” 

She gestures to the tablet in his hand that has all of the building schematics, criminal files, and other intel the FBI has managed to procure. 

“Aye aye Captain,” he says sarcastically, feeling anything but friendly towards the woman who has basically sentenced him to death. 

“And Oliver?” she says as the guards begin to place the shackles back on him. “Remember, if anyone finds out about this, especially your family, the deal is off… We have eyes everywhere.” 

****

Felicity drops William off at school, watching him until he’s walked all the way into the building just to be safe. Once she’s sure that he’s actually going to school and not going to get some crazy idea to ditch and go play vigilante, she hits the road and heads for Slabside, settling in for a four hour drive. 

She’s had time to think about Oliver’s request. While the fact that he’d even suggested a divorce still angers her, it’s down to a low simmer, no longer boiling over. Because Felicity knows Oliver. She knows him better than he knows himself most days. And her Oliver would never have asked her for a divorce. Not unless something was seriously wrong. And she’s just got this gut feeling that there’s something she’s missing. A piece of the puzzle he’s keeping from her. 

There is something going on and Oliver is pushing her away so that she won’t figure it out. 

Sure. A life sentence in prison would meet those qualifications. There is nothing right about her husband spending the rest of his life behind bars for trying to save the city. But Oliver has known his sentence for the last five months. Nothing has changed, to her knowledge, since then. So she doesn’t understand why now if not before? What is so different now that he suddenly can’t be married to her anymore? 

And she’d bet her life that Oliver is trying to protect her from something. The fear of what that could be is overriding any anger she has at him for once again, not trusting her with the truth. 

She needs answers. And she needs him to not be able to hang up on her when she asks for them. She needs to be able to look into his eyes and see the truth. 

So, she’s taken the day off of work and asked Roy to pick William up from school this afternoon so that she has plenty of time for the four hour drive to Slabside. 

When Felicity finally arrives and makes it through all of the security checkpoints, she’s informed that Oliver isn’t interested in seeing her today. That alone raises about fifty red flags and she’s torn between utter panic and sheer rage. She raises hell, but nothing she does or says can convince the guards that they need to bring Oliver out to see her whether he wants to or not. She yells, screams, and fights, but all it earns her is a security escort out of the building. 

“Are you kidding me, Oliver!” she screams at the top of her lungs from the parking lot. She has no idea if he can hear her or not, but she doesn’t care. She’s too angry not to at least try to give him a piece of her mind. 

“After everything we’ve gone through! You won’t even see me?! Screw you!” she yells as tears of frustration start to run down her face. 

A security guard on the other side of the fence walks over to her and reminds her that she can leave quietly or they can have her arrested. 

Felicity gets back into her car and does her best to take several calming breaths, but it doesn’t work. Her hands are shaking, her heart is racing, and her blood is boiling. She can’t just turn around and drive back to Star City like this. She needs to at least see him. She needs to put eyes on him to make sure that he’s okay, and once she does that, she has a few choice words for him. Right now, her mind is providing her about a thousand reasons why Oliver wouldn’t want to see her, and not a single one of them is good. 

She pulls out her cell phone and goes about hacking into the prison security feed. It takes several minutes longer than it would have taken on her tablet, but she eventually is able to pull up footage of Oliver’s cell. Once she does, it only takes her another minute or two to notice that somebody has put the footage on a loop, meaning that somebody doesn’t want anyone seeing what is really happening inside of Oliver’s cell. 

Felicity bypasses the loop and gains access to the camera connected to his cell. She gasps loudly as she tries to make sense of what it is that she’s seeing. 

Four men are huddled up around a lump that can only be her husband backed into a corner. They are wailing on him. She zooms in on the image and it doesn't even look like Oliver is trying to fight back even though she knows that he’s more than capable of punching his way through men tougher than these guys. When she zooms back out again to try and figure out where the prison guards are in all of this, she notices two of them standing on the other side of the bars. They’ve literally locked Oliver in there with those men and are doing nothing to stop the fight.

She sees red. She takes a screenshot and marches right back up to the prison gates. 

“Listen, we’ve already told you to leave,” the man tells her.

Felicity holds up her phone so that he can see the picture she’d taken. Her hands are still shaking and she’s infuriated. 

“No,” she says, firmly. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to let me back in. You’re going to tell your little friends to bring my husband out to see me. Right. Now. Or I swear to god, this video is getting sent to our good friend Lyla Michaels, the director of ARGUS. Did you know she has a direct line to the president?”

The guard shifts on his feet and looks over her shoulder, presumably towards one of the other guards.

“And if that doesn't scare you,” she continues, only building up more and more steam as she goes on. “Just think about what is going to happen when this footage and each and every one of your names is released to the global press. You know that at least half of the country thinks that the Green Arrow is a hero, right? Do you think you’ll be able to keep your jobs? Do you think you’ll be able to keep  _ anything _ when The Flash finds out about this and gathers up… What was it the news called them again? The Justice League? Let. Me. Through.” 

The guard steps aside without a word, and as she storms past the gate, she can hear him radioing ahead to warn them that she’s coming. When she makes it to the next checkpoint, another guard tries to grab the phone out of her hands, but she pulls back fast enough for him to miss. 

“You don’t know how the cloud works, do you?” she asks with a surprised laugh. 

To be safe, she places her hand on the panic button she’d customized a few months back. When she’d refused to go to the safe house with William, Lyla had demanded she at least allow for some protections. A panic button on both her and William’s phones with a direct line to Lyla was agreed upon. She doesn’t know if any of these guards will be brave enough to do anything to her, but she’s not taking any chances. 

“Even if you were to manage to get this phone out of my hands — and I dare you to try — you would never be able to delete that footage. There is a reason they say the internet is forever my friend. Make this easier on yourselves and let me see my husband.” 

He eyes her up and down and the second that another guard steps up, drawing his taser, she presses the panic button and holds her phone out towards the guards. Sonic waves emit from the speaker towards the guards as their hands go up to grab at their ears. A moment or two later, the sound stops as Lyla comes over the video phone. Felicity knows that she has access to the forward facing and backwards facing camera. She can see both Felicity and the prison guards who are now reaching for their weapons. 

“Where are you?” she asks. 

“Slabside,” Felicity tells her as she tries to catch her breath from the wave of adrenaline coursing through her.

It’s a testament to how much Lyla trusts her that she doesn’t question her any further before she steps into action mode. 

“This is Director Lyla Michaels of ARGUS. You can wait the two minutes it’ll take me to call the president and take control over your facility, or you can just hand it over now. Stand down.” 

The guards look at each other skeptically. 

“You think I’m joking,” Lyla says and though Felicity can’t see the screen, she knows Lyla must have done or shown the guards something because their hands immediately drop to their sides. 

“My team is going to be there in ten minutes. I expect full compliance,” Lyla says to the men. “Felicity, talk to me.” 

“They won’t let me see Oliver,” she explains. 

“Take me off speaker,” Lyla says and she does, holding the phone up to her ear. 

“Okay.” 

“Felicity, you know that simply wanting to see Oliver isn’t a good enough reason for ARGUS to take over control of a federal facility. I can’t just wave my badge around without a legitimate reason.” 

“I know,” she says. “But I just pulled up video footage of four men locked in Oliver’s cell with him, wailing on him, while two guards stood outside and watched.” 

“What?” Lyla asks. 

“Yeah,” she says, taking deep breaths so that she won’t start crying. She doesn’t want to look weak in front of the guards. “And Oliver’s been cancelling visitations on us left and right. Today, he outright refused to see me and…” 

“And?” 

“And a few days ago he asked me for a divorce,” she whispers, barely able to keep to together as she says the words. “I just…” 

“You think that there’s something going on that he’s not telling you,” Lyla finishes for her. 

“Yes.” 

Lyla sighs deeply. “Hand the phone to the guards.”

Felicity holds out the phone and both guard flinch before she says, “Lyla wants to talk to you.” 

She watches the guards exchange words with Lyla as she tries to will her heart to stop beating so quickly. Everything escalated so quickly that she hasn’t really had time to process everything that’s happened. She simply saw Oliver in trouble and rushed into action. She hadn’t thought twice about threatening federal agents. She could have been arrested, and then where would William be? 

Felicity is surprised when the guards hand her phone back to her and open the doors for her to go through. 

“Hansen will show you to a room,” one of the guards tells her as a man on the other side of the door walks up to greet her. 

“I want to see my husband,” she demands. 

“We’re going to bring him to you,” Hansen says with a tight smile. “Now if you’ll follow me.” 

Felicity holds the phone up to her ear. “Lyla?” 

“I’m still here,” she says. “I’ll stay on the line until my men get there.” 

Felicity nods, reassured that the guards won’t try anything with Lyla listening in. She follows Hansen down the hall. They pass the visiting room where Felicity has always gone in, and she does a double take as her body tenses, preparing for a fight.

“Where are you taking me?” she asks.

“Director Michaels said you required a private room,” Hansen informs her, stopping in front of a door to unlock it for her. He opens the door and waves for her to step inside. “Queen will be down in a few minutes.” 

Felicity steps inside and the door is closed behind her. 

“Lyla?” 

Felicity doesn’t get a response. She looks down at her phone. There’s no signal. It doesn’t surprise her. The room doesn't have a single window and the walls are thick concrete. She takes slow, steady breaths as she tries not to panic. The officer said that they were bringing Oliver to her. Lyla knows where she is and an ARGUS team will be here shortly. The guards won’t try anything. 

Felicity takes a seat at the lone table with two chairs. She looks down at her phone and pulls up the screenshot she’d taken. She zooms in, trying to get a good luck at Oliver’s face to see if she can get some kind of sense of his mental state, but it’s too grainy. 

The door clicks open and Oliver is pushed through, nearly tripping over the chains around his ankles. 

“Are those really necessary?” Felicity asks the guard as she moves to stand and greet Oliver. 

“For him?” the guard says with disgust. “Absolutely.” 

Felicity eyes his nametag. Crawley. He’s the guard that Oliver apparently assaulted. Although, looking at her husband now and knowing what she’s just seen in the video, she’s questioning the validity of that report. 

Oliver holds his hands out for the handcuffs to be removed, but Crawley just snorts and walks back out the door, locking it behind him. 

Oliver sighs and drops his shackled hands back down. “I told them I didn’t want to see you today.” 

Felicity scoffs as she crosses her arms and shakes her head. He’s unbelievable. 

Oliver keeps his head down as she gestures to the table. She rolls her eyes and goes to sit back down. It takes Oliver longer. The way he’s holding his body, she can tell that he’s in a lot of pain but trying not to show it. He’s bruised all over. There is an old cut on his neck that is starting to scar. It looks like it had been deep. His cheek is swollen and purple. There is a cut above his eye that is scabbed over. There is dried blood running from his nose down his face. His jaw has a large, faded, green bruise. 

And if that wasn’t enough to concern her, Oliver’s eyes show very little emotion. He’s completely retreated into himself. 

Oliver sits down in front of her. He’s on edge. He’s holding his body tightly, like he’s prepared for a fight. Only, she doesn’t think that fight is with her. She wonders if he’s counting down the moments till he’s attacked again. The ways his eyes dart around the room, she can tell he’s already doing mental calculations. He’s planning his escape route. Getting a lay of the land. Aquanting himself with his surroundings so that he knows every inch of the room should a fight break out. 

He’s in survival mode. He’s prepared to fight back. Which begs the question…

“Why didn’t you fight back just now in your cell?” she asks. 

Oliver grimaces and shakes his head. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 

Felicity snorts. “Did you honestly think that I wouldn’t hack into the security cameras the moment you refused to see me?” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his eyes finally lifting to meet hers. “I told you to move on with your life. To get away from me. There’s nothing for you here.” 

“Well, if you wanted a more compliant wife, then you should have rethought things before you said ‘I do,’” she says bitterly. If he wants to get right into it, then they can do that. 

“Felicity, please,” he says, softly, but that voice won’t work on her. Not today. “I don’t ask for much.” 

“You don’t…” she snorts. “You don’t ask for much. No. You just ask that I be okay with the fact that you got thrown into prison for the rest of your life  _ voluntarily _ . Or that I agree to a divorce that I want nothing to do with.” 

His eyes go back to the table. 

“It’s the only way,” he argues, though his heart isn’t in it. There’s no fire. He’s slowly slipping away before her eyes and she refuses to let him. He’s fought too hard, they’ve gone through too much together for him to give up now. 

“The only way to what?” she asks, lowering her head to meet his eyes and moving to keep his gaze every time he tries to look away. He doesn’t answer her, but he doesn’t have to. She knows him well enough to know the answer to her question. “The only way to keep us safe?” 

Oliver shakes his head, but she knows that she’s right. 

“When?” she asks. 

“When what?” 

“When did they threaten us?” she asks him, and he continues to shake his head. “That’s what happened right? They tried to break you by beating you and when that didn’t work, they decided to threaten us. That’s why this came out of nowhere.” 

“Felicity, please,” he whispers. 

“I didn’t run scared from Diaz, I sure as hell am not going to run scared from some inmates locked up in a supermax,” she assures him, reaching out for his hands but he pulls them away. 

“It’s not the inmates,” he tells her. 

Felicity’s eyes widen, though she’s not sure why she’s all that shocked. William has been trying to tell her for months that he didn’t like the way that the guards looked at Oliver. She thought he was being paranoid. Guards are trained to be suspicious of inmates, especially ones with a history of starting fights in the yard. But after what she saw today, she shouldn’t be surprised that the guards had threatened them.

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. 

“You never started any of those fights did you? The prison records said you did and I just…” she trails off as her brain tries to catch up to all of the pieces that are suddenly being thrown at her, begging her to be put together. “You let me believe you did.” 

Oliver blushes in what she’s sure is shame. “I couldn’t have you here.” 

“All those times that you called to tell us not to come… You did that because of this,” she says, gesturing to the bruising on his face. 

“You were already so worried about me,” he says as if it’s any kind of excuse. 

“That’s my job,” she says in disbelief. “I thought you didn’t want to see us. That you were pushing us away. Do you know how hurt I’ve been thinking that you’ve been denying me the only comfort I have left?” 

“What good would it have done, you couldn’t have done anything about it,” he says

“I could have done something,” she argues. 

“William doesn’t need to see me like this,” Oliver says. “He’s already lost his mother. He doesn’t need to stress that the next phone call he gets is going to be to tell him that his father’s been killed.” 

Felicity gasps. He doesn’t honestly believe that he’s going to die in here, does he? “Oliver…” 

He looks up at her with wet eyes and gives her a weak smile. 

“You are not going to die in here,” she says adamantly. She won’t let that happen. 

“You deserve better,” he tells her, and those words are like nails on a chalkboard to her, but she brushes past them. It’s something they’ll discuss, but for now, she’s putting it on the back burner. She doesn’t have the mental capacity to unpack the truckload of things she deserves from him. Not while she’s still trying to piece together what’s been happening the last five months. 

She pushes past the lump of emotion caught in her throat to say, “You didn’t answer my question. When?” 

Oliver closes his eyes and sighs deeply, and she knows that he’s conceding. There’s a visible wall that drops between them and suddenly, she can see his eyes swimming with emotion.

“The day I attacked that guard,” he admits, looking past her at the wall behind her, unable to meet her eyes. 

“That’s why you attacked him. He threatened Will and I.” It’s a statement not a question. The truth is written all over his face. 

His eyes meet hers and she can see the guilt that he’s carrying. She reaches out to grab his hand and this time he doesn't pull away. His hands squeeze hers tightly and his eyes plead with her to understand. 

“He told me that he would find you… That he would…” Oliver’s voice cuts out as he looks her up and down as if he’s checking for injuries. Like he’s looking for some kind of sign that somebody has touched her that might not be obvious to the naked eye. Felicity doesn’t have to imagine hard what kind of things were probably said to set Oliver off. She’s a woman. She’s grown up her entire life hearing derogatory comments directed at her. 

It doesn’t surprise her that Oliver reacted the way he did. She still remembers the night they were at that market in Jakarta and a man had reached up her skirt. Oliver had knocked the man out cold. She’s pretty sure that the look of rage on his face had been worse than the time she’d been held hostage by Count Vertigo. 

“Nobody has come after us,” she reassures him. “We’re fine. They were probably just trying to get to you.” 

“I don’t care what they do to me in here,” he admits, and she hates that he means his words. “I’m not going to let them hurt you. I’ve done enough of that myself.” 

Felicity sighs.

“I knew,” she admits. “During your trial, I knew that if you got convicted, that prison wouldn’t be fair to you. We’ve helped put away so many criminals that somebody was bound to try and hurt you… But when you were arrested Lyla assured me that there were regulations in place… That the guards would make sure you were safe. That being in a supermax actually protected you more than Iron Heights could protect Roy. And I let myself believe it. I let myself believe you could take care of yourself because it was easier than to really have to think about it…” 

She starts to cry and Oliver reaches out with his poor, shackled hands, to lift her chin up and get her to look at him. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

Felicity holds her phone out to her with the screenshot of him being beaten up. “How is this taking care of yourself, Oliver?” He shakes his head as she continues to cry. “This shouldn’t be happening.” 

Oliver lowers his hands to grab onto her own again and tugs on them until she stands up. She moves around the table to stand in front of him. His hands move to grab onto her but are halted by the chains, instantly, he looks away in shame. She reaches down to cradles his face and rest her forehead against his own. 

It’s the closest contact they've been allowed since he was locked up. Usually there are guards in the room enforcing the no touching policies. 

“You should have told me the truth,” she whispers, frustrated. “How many times are we going to have the same argument before you change? I thought you told me this time that you were done. No more lies?” 

“I was trying to protect you,” he argues quietly. 

“Another fight we always have… I don’t need your protection.” 

“I had to do this, Felicity,” he says, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “I couldn’t let Diaz hurt anyone else. He had the numbers. There was no other way.” 

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that,” she tells him. She will never accept the fact that there wasn’t another way to take down Diaz without Oliver turning himself over to the FBI. Especially given the fact that Diaz wasn’t even apprehended. Him pulling a disappearing act and being a permanent question marks over all of their heads hardly feels like a victory worth sacrificing anything for. 

“I miss you and William so much,” he whispers, his eyes swimming.

“Then why are you trying to divorce me,” she asks, her voice breaking. 

Oliver gives her a tight smile, holding back tears as he shakes his head. “I thought it was the only way…” 

“When will you learn that we’ll always find a way?” 

Oliver laughs through the tears as she wipes them from his face. “It was stupid. I just couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.”

She runs her fingers through the scruff on his face that is getting long enough that she’s going to have to consider it a beard soon enough. He turns his face to place a kiss to her palm. 

“And now you can?” she asks, hopefully. 

Oliver shrugs as his eyes dart behind her and she looks over her shoulder to see the camera that’s mounted on the wall behind her. She looks back at him, concerned. 

“Lyla and I are going to get you out of here,” she assures him. “We’ll get you transferred to a different facility.” 

Oliver shakes his head and gives her a sad smile. “There’s nowhere else to go. This is the only federal supermax prison in the country. You’re not going to convince a judge to send me elsewhere.” 

“Then Digg and I will get you out.” 

Oliver shakes his head again. “I can’t ask you guys to do that for me.” 

“You don’t have to,” she says, standing back up tall and crossing her arms. 

“I told you before, even if I agreed to a life on the run with you — which isn’t what I want for William or you — the immunity deal only lasts as long as I’m in prison.” 

“Well then what do you have for me, Oliver?” she asks, throwing her hands up in the air, frustrated. “I need to know that you’re trying to come home. That you’re working as hard as I am to figure a way out of this mess.” 

“I am working…” he starts to say before trailing off as his eyes go back to the camera on the wall. His eyes close as he takes a deep breath trying to compose his emotions. 

“Oliver?” 

When he opens his eyes again, there’s a wall back up between them. She can tell, without a shadow of a doubt, there is still something he’s hiding from her. 

“Talk to me,” she says, reaching out for his hands. He threads his fingers through her own and leans down to press a kiss to her wedding ring. 

“I love you,” he tells her. “Just have a little faith. This will all work out.” 

“How?” she asks, pleading with him to talk to her. “You’re serving a life sentence and any change you might have been able to argue for parole has gone out the window with the rap sheet you’re acquiring in here.” 

He stands up from his chair and leans over her, pressing his lips to her own. She soaks it up greedily. They haven’t kissed since that night Diaz attacked the loft. There hadn’t been enough time for goodbye kisses, not with how little time they had… It’s not fair. None of this is fair. 

They deserved more than an ending like this. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says, pulling away to rest her head against his heart, taking comfort in the fact that it’s still beating. No matter how he’s been stripped away from her, at least he’s still alive. 

“I know,” he says softly. She knows, if his hands weren’t bound, he’d be running his fingers through her hair right now. 

“You’ve done so much for our city,” she argues. “You saved so many lives and I don’t understand how this is the thanks you get for that. They should be building monuments in parks for you, not throwing you in prison.” 

“I broke the law,” he explains carefully.” 

“So does Barry,” she counters. “He has a signature drink at Jitters.” 

“I killed people,” he admits and she can feel the tremble in his chest as he says it. “I’ve killed a lot of people.” 

“That was before,” she says, pulling back to look at him. 

“There’s no statute of limitations on murder,” he reminds her, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

She hates Star City. She really and truly hates it. She doesn’t understand how they’ve spent the last six years protecting the citizens and preventing catastrophes left and right to be left with this. It’s not fair. 

“You should be home.” 

Oliver leans over and rests his head against hers. “You don’t know how much I wish I was there.” 

There is a knock at the door and a moment later, a familiar looking woman steps through the door. Felicity doesn’t remember her name, but the woman works closely with Lyla at ARGUS. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says. “Mr. Queen, if you don’t mind, we have a few questions for you.” 

Oliver looks down at Felicity in confusion and she bites her lower lip. 

“I might have called in ARGUS,” she says sheepishly. Though, if she’s being honest, she has no regrets about involving her friend in this mess if it means that Oliver won’t have to constantly look over his shoulder anymore. 

“Felicity,” Oliver says with that tone of his that says he’s torn between being amused and annoyed. 

“What?” she says, holding her hands up in defense. “The guard was going to taser me. I pressed my panic button. That’s what it’s there for. Lyla got involved. I’m not sorry.” 

“Somebody was going to taser you?” Oliver asks, his hands going into fists as his body tenses. 

“Relax,” Felicity says. “Like I said, I pressed my panic button before that could happen.” 

“And why was a guard going to tase you?” he asks. 

Felicity looks down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes as she admits, “I might have threatened them by saying I would make the video public if they didn’t let me see you.” 

Oliver groans and moves to lift his arms — presumably to run them over his face like he always does when he feels out of control and stressed out — but the shackles stop him. 

“Do you mind getting him out of these?” Felicity asks the ARGUS agent. The woman nods and steps back into the hall for a moment. 

“These aren’t the kind of guards you should be threatening,” Oliver warns her. “They aren’t fans of mine and won’t hesitate to take that out on you.” 

“Let them try,” she says, crossing her arms. “There’s no way they are going to have a job after this. Lyla will see to that.” 

“Not the point,” Oliver says as the woman walks back in and unlocks Oliver’s chains. “Do you mind giving us a few more minutes, Alvarez?” Oliver asks. So that must be her name — Alvarez. Of course Oliver would remember it. He remembers everyone. “I promise to answer all of your questions when I’m done.” 

Alvarez smiles at the two of them knowingly. 

“Sure,” she says, then points up at the camera on the wall. “But word of warning. That camera is on and it has an audio feed.” 

Felicity blushes as Oliver laughs. “Thank you.” 

She steps back out and the moment the door shuts behind her, Oliver’s arms wrap around Felicity’s waist. Felicity nearly gasps at how good his arms feel around her after so long. Oliver buries his face in her neck as he holds her tightly. 

“I love you so much,” she says, running her hands up and down his back as he practically melts into her. 

Oliver places several kisses along her neck as he whispers how much he loves her into her skin. His lips then move to her ear and he whispers so quietly that she can barely hear him. “Don’t react… Don’t move. They are always watching.” 

Her arms tighten around him at his words. “I’m going to get out.”

“What?” she whispers, confused. 

“I’m not supposed to tell a soul but… Felicity, there is a plan and I promise you, I’m going to get out and come back home to you,” he tells her. 

She pulls back, draping her arms around his shoulders as she stares up at him, silently questioning if what he’s telling her is real. She’s confused. He’d been so adamant that Digg and her weren’t allowed to break her out because he didn’t want to live a life on the run. So how is this different? 

He nods. His eyes go over her shoulder again and she knows that he’s looking towards the camera. 

She doesn’t care. She’ll do anything to have him home with her again. They need him. She cradles his face in her hands and pulls him down for another kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against hers. 

“Promise me,” she says. 

He leans in and nibbles on her ear playfully, making her laugh through the tears that she’d been crying. “With everything in my power.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout out to Megan for all the cheerleading she did finishing up these beast of a chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!

_ I’m following the lead of the setting sun, and I’m going back where I came from  _ —  _ “Home”  _ Aron Wright

______

Felicity sits at her computer running the usual searches while Roy has William slapping bowls of water. It’s been five months since anyone has heard from Diaz. While the FBI is content to believe that he’d died when he was thrown off that building and into the bay, Felicity has been in the game long enough to know that he’ll be back. She doesn’t want to be caught unaware when he does. She’s been scouring the globe since his disappearance trying to find him. 

One of these days, she’s positive that she’s going to find him and the team will be able to take him out, once and for all. Today doesn’t seem to be that day. 

“Okay,” Felicity says, standing up from her desk. Her back pops from the movement, signalling just how long she’d been sitting there, hunched over her keyboard. “It’s time to get home. It’s a school night.” 

William groans. “Just a few more minutes?” he asks. “Roy was about to let me move on to target practice.”

“You wish,” Roy says at the same time as she says, “Nope.”

“You’ve had several hours. It’s time to get home. We’ve got to eat and you’ve still got a book report to write.” 

“We can train some more after school tomorrow,” Roy says. “Your body needs some rest anyway. Now mop up this floor. It’s soaked.”

Felicity shoots him a grateful smile for backing her up. 

“Fine,” William grumbles. 

He walks over the the makeshift locker area they have in place while they wait for Cisco to finish with the remodel and grabs several towels. Felicity packs her tablet and phone into her purse and is about to start shutting down her computers when an alert sounds. 

“What’s that?” William asks curiously, while Roy shoots her a knowing look. 

“I can call the team in,” Roy says. “Curtis can run point. You can still head home.” 

Felicity is about to agree because William really does need to finish his book report if he wants to pass his class. She pulls up the alert to figure out what’s going on. What she sees has her doing a double take. 

“What?” she says, mostly to herself. She sits back down at her computer and begins typing away, because surely, there has been a mistake. 

“What is it?” Roy asks, jogging over to her desk, William hot on his heels. 

“Facial recognition picked up Oliver,” she says, not believing her own words. 

“Dad?” William asks, confused. 

Felicity pulls up the image of Oliver in a wooded area standing next to Anatoly. She begins running several programs to try and figure out if the feed has somehow been digitally altered. 

“Where is he?” William asks, leaning it closer to the screen to get a better look. 

Felicity pauses to look over William’s head at Roy as she says, “Montana.” 

Maybe it’ll mean something to him. It sure as hell doesn’t mean anything to her. Roy’s surprised, yet confused look tells her that he doesn’t have any answers for her. 

“Montana?” William says. 

“What’d Oliver do? Break out of a supermax?” Roy asks with a disbelieving laugh, but his smile drops quickly. “Oliver broke out of a supermax, didn’t he?” 

“He told me that he was working on something but…” Felicity shakes her head. She refuses to believe that Oliver would break himself out of prison and they wouldn't be the first people that he came to see. 

“Dad broke out of prison?” William asks. 

“No,” she answers. “He couldn’t have… He wouldn’t have.” 

“Wouldn’t he?” Roy asks. 

“He has told me all summer that Digg and I weren’t allowed to break him out because it would destroy the immunity deal that he worked out for us all,” she explains. “He might want to get out, but he isn’t that selfish. Trust me, I’ve tried to convince him to be and he isn’t.” 

“Okay… So then what are we looking at?” Roy asks. 

“Maybe the machine is malfunctioning,” William says with a shrug. 

Felicity shakes her head. It’s not possible. She’s running diagnostics, but nothing is coming back. 

“I would know if this was a bug,” she says. 

“Maybe it’s like what happened with evil Laurel,” Roy says jokingly. 

“What?” 

“You know… the evil Laurel that’s walking around. Thea said she was from another Earth or something. Maybe this is other Earth Oliver,” Roy says. 

Felicity knows that he’s joking, but she doesn’t laugh. Instead, she pulls her cell phone out of her purse and calls Cisco. 

“Hey, Felicity!” Cisco says when he answers the phone. “We were just talking about you. Caitlyn thinks that—” 

“That’s nice,” she cuts him off quickly. “I need you to tell me if a breach has been opened up anytime recently.” 

“Uh… I’m going to need some more specifics,” Cisco says. “Breaches open a lot. You’d be surprised how often, actually—” 

“Cisco,” she cuts him off again. It’s not that she isn’t interested in talking to him. She is. He’s one of her dearest friends. However, now is not the time for small talk. She needs to figure out why in the hell Oliver is in Montana. And if it’s not Oliver, and it’s instead another Earth’s Oliver… she’s 99% sure that they’re going to want to deal with that. From her experience, doppelgangers are usually evil. 

“Right. Sorry,” Cisco says. “I need some more specifics.” 

“I need to know if a breach has opened sometime recently, perhaps somewhere around the Montana area,” Felicity says. 

“Montana? Uh… I can’t imagine why anyone would be in Montana for anything. So, no. I’m not aware of any breaches opened around that area,” he tells her. 

“Any breaches opened up that might have potentially let another Earth’s Oliver through?” she asks. 

“Uh… No,” he says, which causes Felicity to curse under her breath. “What’s going on?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity says. “I’ll tell you about it later. I have to go.” 

Felicity says goodbye quickly and hangs up the phone. She immediately hacks into Slabside and pulls up the video feed. Oliver isn’t in his cell, but the inmates are at dinner, so she’s not immediately concerned. She scours the faces of the inmates in the cafeteria, looking for him. 

“Do you see him?” Felicity asks them, zooming in on the various faces. 

“No,” Roy says. “Do you think it says something about the state of our world that you called to find out if a breach had been opened up before you even checked the prison security system to see if Oliver was there or not?” 

Felicity glares at him. 

“Right… No, I don’t see Oliver,” Roy says. 

“So that’s really him?” William asks, pointing to the still image of Oliver and Anatoly that Felicity had pulled from the video. A smile is starting to form on William’s face, but Felicity isn’t sharing in his delight. She has an awful feeling in her stomach. 

Oliver is gone from Slabside and not a single alarm has been raised. Which leads her to believe that the prison is very much aware of his absence. She’s done a lot of research on their security. She knows the prison’s protocols like the back of her hand. If Oliver was missing from his cell, it would take, at most, 90 seconds for the guards to be alerted. And with the complete restaffing of Slabside thanks to Lyla reigning down hell on the Federal Bureau of Prisons, Felicity is confident that protocol is being followed to a T. 

So why isn’t the news broadcasting nationwide about the escape of a high profile inmate from a maximum security prison? Why hasn’t a single alarm been raised at the facility?

“Oliver said he was going to get out,” Felicity says, staring at the image of Oliver and trying to make sense of it. “He was really secretive and fidgety about it. At the time, I assumed he meant he was going to escape somehow and he didn’t want the cameras to overhear his plan…” 

“But?” Roy says, giving her a look like he also feels like something is off but can’t figure out what. 

“What if that wasn’t why he was being secretive?” she says, shaking her head. She pulls up satellite images of the area in which Oliver had been spotted. There is a cabin with eight heat signatures inside. 

“What are we looking at?” Roy asks. 

Felicity shakes her head. She tries to zoom in on the cars in the drive, but can’t get a good enough image to see their license plates clearly. They are black SUVs though and the plates most certainly look official. 

Maybe it’s all the horrible stories that Felicity has heard about Amanda Waller over the years, or maybe it’s just her very recent hatred of all things FBI, but Felicity has a very real suspicion that her husband is being used. 

With that suspicion in mind, Felicity hacks into the FBI servers and tries to figure out if there are any ongoing missions happening in Montana. What she finds turns her stomach to lead. 

There is a top-secret mission happening right now in Montana that is so classified that even she can’t hack into the files. 

“What’s going on?” William asks. “Is Dad okay?” 

“I have no idea,” she answers truthfully. 

****

Oliver finishes walking Anatoly through his plan to infiltrate the terrorist cell and rescue Mia Brayden. He’s expecting a lot of questions. He’s prepared to hear an outright no. That he’s crazy for even attempting this plan and Anatoly isn’t going to help him on this suicide mission. What he doesn’t expect, is the knowing smirk on Anatoly’s face. 

“What?” Oliver asks, shifting back and forth on his feet as his fingers itch for his bow the way they always do whenever he’s anxious. 

“Somehow, Oliver Queen always ends up in same situation, no?” Anatoly says, giving him a sympathetic smile. 

Oliver doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have anything to counter. Anatoly is right. It seems like, no matter what he does, he always ends up being brought into the middle of other people’s battles. 

“I’m not exactly in a position where I can say no here,” Oliver says. “If I want to get home to my wife and child, I have to do this.” 

“Sure,” Anatoly says with a shrug. “If you live. And if Watson hold up her end of bargain.” 

“You don’t think that I can trust her to set me free,” he says. It’s not a question and Oliver doesn’t entirely disagree. He too has thought about what he’ll do if Watson turns around and reneges on their deal. But it’s not as if he has a hand to play here. He could refuse to help, but that won’t help him get released.

“I think you stand in den of snakes, you get bit,” Anatoly tells him. 

“I never went back on our deal even though I could have,” Oliver argues with him, even though it’s not Anatoly he is frustrated with. He’s frustrated with the situation he’s found himself in, and the very real possibility that he is going through all of this trouble to rescue Mia Brayden for a pipe dream. “I followed through on my promise to hand myself over to the FBI. Shouldn’t she honor her promise?” 

“There is honor among thieves,” he says. “Among FBI and inmate? Not so much.” 

Oliver sighs deeply. “So you’re not going to help me?” 

“Help? Of course I help,” Anatoly says with a laugh, reaching out his hand for a brotherly handshake. Oliver takes it, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. At least he won't be in this alone. 

“What did they promise you in return for your cooperation?” he asks, curious. 

“Sanctuary,” he explains. “Gulag, not my favorite place.” 

Oliver nods in agreement. If he thinks that Slabside is bad, he can only imagine what kind of prison Anatoly has been put in. Oliver still remembers the look on Lyla’s face when they’d finally broken her of the prison she’d found herself in several years ago. 

“Worse than Lian Yu?” he asks, trying to make light of things. After all, there is only so much a man wants to talk about his time on the inside. 

“Lian Yu? Yes,” he says. “Amazo? Comparable.” 

Oliver grimaces. It’s on the Amazo where Oliver and Anatoly first met, when Oliver had to dig a bullet out of his own stomach and stitch himself up. 

Oliver goes to offer his condolences, but Anatoly waves off whatever he’d been about to say. 

“Let’s talk business,” Anatoly says. “This plan of yours? Stupid. Suicide mission. I am not going into terrorist cell halfcock, Kapushion. We need new one.” 

“You have a better idea?” he asks. He’s open to any suggestions at this point, especially plans that won’t get him killed. He would like to make good on the promise he made to Felicity and William to always come home to them.

“Do I have plan that won’t get both of us killed?” Anatoly asks. “Of course. That is why you call me, no?”

****

Felicity has been working all day and night trying to untangle the mystery that is Oliver in Montana for an FBI mission. So far, she hasn’t been able to hack into the classified files to figure out what the mission is. Nor has she been able to get anyone at the prison to tell her anything of use. According to them, Oliver is currently in solitary for his own protection. They have even shown her video footage of Oliver in his cell when she showed up at the prison this morning and demanded answers. 

It’s bull. 

Felicity hacked into their system and was able to figure out quickly that the video footage of him in solitary is a decoy. It’s an hour long loop of him sitting in bed reading, taken from several weeks earlier. Somebody had hacked into the system. Whether the guards are in on the fact that Oliver isn’t there or not, she isn’t entirely sure. At the very least, the guards in charge of solitary have to know that Oliver isn’t in his cell. 

She was able to trace the hack back to the FBI, but hadn’t been able to go any further with it. 

It’s been awhile since anyone has been able to truly block her out so efficiently and it’s frustrating. She isn’t just trying to hack in to find intel on the lastest bad guy of the week here. She’s trying to figure out what in the hell her husband has gotten himself involved in.

Felicity likes to believe that she trusts Oliver to take care of himself. And really… she does. But there’s something about this mission that has her stomach twisted into knots. Whether it’s how deeply classified the mission is, how nervous Oliver had seemed last she saw him when he’d kept looking towards the cameras, or something else that her gut is trying to tell her that her brain hasn’t caught onto… she isn’t sure. Either way, she’s a frazzled mess. 

The whole reason she’s always able to sit back on the sidelines and let Oliver do what he does best is because she has eyes on. As Overwatch, she is able to watch his every move and provide him with helpful little suggestions. And, more often than not, he has a team to help him. She didn’t like it when Oliver went after Diaz by himself, and she sure as hell doesn’t like whatever this is. 

The FBI is working with Oliver and Felicity trusts them about as far as she can throw them. And despite how muscular her arms might appear — she can’t throw them very far. She has minimal upper body strength and very poor coordination. 

Felicity downs the rest of her coffee and pushes her plate away from her, unable to really eat anything. She’d pulled into a diner near the prison after she’d struck out, in desperate need of some caffeine. Hearing Oliver’s voice in her head, nagging her about how she always forgets to eat when she’s in the zone, she’d ordered some food. But when the plate had shown up, she couldn’t get herself to take a single bite. 

How is she supposed to sit here and eat when her husband is in trouble? 

Her phone beeps, alerting her that she’s received a text. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s from Lyla. Felicity nearly knocks over her coffee in an attempt to grab her phone as quickly as possible. She’d asked Lyla for help figuring out what is going on hours ago. 

_ From Lyla: Nobody is talking. I’ll keep trying, but I pretty much used up all of my favors when ARGUS intervened at Slabside. I’ll keep trying, but my hands are tied. You might have to do this one on your own.  _

Felicity’s blood boils as she resists the desire to throw her phone across the restaurant in anger. What good is it to have a friend in government, if they can’t get her any inside information? It’s bullshit. Lyla saying that her hands are tied is bullshit. ARGUS has the power to hack into anything. If Lyla wanted to, she could hack into the FBI files and get her all of the information she needs. 

_ From Felicity: You’d do it for John.  _

_ From Lyla: That’s not fair, nor is it true.  _

Felicity snorts at that. Lyla helped Oliver break John out of military prison. Hell, she’d been the one to ask Oliver to do it. She didn’t care about her job then. 

_ From Felicity: I’ll handle it myself.  _

She types furiously at her phone, as she blinks back angry tears. There are few things that Felicity hates worse in this world than feeling helpless, but that’s exactly how she feels right now. 

She pulls a twenty out of her purse to cover her bill and sets it down on the table. She gathers up her stuff and leaves the restaurant. She’s not getting anything here. The prison isn’t going to give her the answers she’s looking for. 

Walking to her car, she spots a man standing against it and it stops her in her tracks. She instantly grabs at the mace that’s attached to her keychain. Her finger goes to the nozzle, ready to spray. With her other hand, she digs in her purse for her phone so she can press the panic button if needed. She doesn’t know if anyone would be stupid enough to try and attack her in broad daylight, but she isn’t taking any chances. There have been too many attempts on her since Oliver came out as The Green Arrow. Team Arrow has too many enemies for her not to be constantly vigilant. 

“Felicity Smoak?” the man calls after her. 

He’s done his homework. Usually these guys that track her down assume she’d changed her name to Queen. 

“Who sent you?” she asks, keeping her voice level. Showing fear never does any good. It just emboldens them. Her fingers find her phone and she holds that out as well in warning. 

He takes a step away from the car and towards her. She takes several steps backwards. 

“I know where your husband is,” he says, glancing around like he’s afraid of being overheard. 

“Yeah, you and everyone with an internet connection,” she counters. The entire world knows that Oliver had been sent to Slabside. 

The man holds up his hands in surrender and takes another step towards her. Her fingers itch to push the panic button, but there’s something stopping her from going through with it. 

“I know where they took him,” he says, again, glancing around. 

Her gut tells her to trust him, but her head tells her no. She hadn’t been quiet in her arguments with the prison staff this morning. Anyone could have overheard her demanding to know where her husband is. This man could have recognized her and is using her desire for answers to trick her. She’s spent enough time with vigilantes to know better than to trust a stranger blindly. 

“Don’t come any closer,” she warns him. 

“Okay,” he says gently, having the audacity to smile at her. He lowers his hands slowly. “I can see what Oliver sees in you. You’re tough. Like him.” 

She feels drawn to this man, and she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t recognize him. He doesn’t look evil though. He’s wearing khaki pants and a flannel button down. He’s got grey hair, eighties glasses, and a comb over. He looks like the guy down the street who picks up your paper and brings it to the doorstep while offering to mow your lawn for free. But then again… so did the BTK killer. 

“Who are you?” she asks. 

“My name is Bill McDowell. I work at Slabside,” he says. 

Felicity lowers her hands as the name tugs at a memory. Oliver has told her about him. Bill is the only name Oliver has ever mentioned to her in regards to people on the inside. Oliver had spoken of him with fondness, something he doesn’t often have when talking about prison life. 

Still, Felicity is going to need some proof, before she trusts this guy. 

“Let me see your ID,” she tells him. 

He reaches into his back pocket slowly with one hand raised at her, she still has her hand on her panic button in case he draws a weapon. He doesn’t. He pulls out a lanyard with a badge at the end of it. He tosses it at her. She reaches down to grab it and inspect the ID. It’s him alright. Either that, or he’s really good at faking it. 

“You know where Oliver is?” she asks with a shaky breath. She looks up at him as hope fills her chest.

Bill glances around again before shaking his head. “Not here.” 

Felicity and Bill get into her car and he instructs her to drive out of town and stop by an abandoned quarry. She rolls down the windows for air before turning off the car. She shifts in her seat to face him. 

“I’m sure based on that scene you threw this morning, you know that Oliver isn’t in his cell,” Bill says. 

“Where is he?” she asks, the amount that Bill’s looked over his shoulder the entire ride here has her even more worried than she’d been before. 

“Several days ago, an FBI agent came, asking to see Oliver,” he explains. “It was all very secretive. Nobody was allowed to know what she was doing there. The two of them talked and she left.” 

Felicity is almost certain that she knows exactly who ‘she’ is. She quickly pulls a picture up on her phone and passes it over to Bill. 

“Tall, black, bitchy as hell?” she asks. 

“That would be the one,” he confirms. 

Felicity should have known immediately that this had Watson’s grimy fingers all over it. Watson is the only FBI agent in the world who was more concerned with putting a hero behind bars than fighting back against a gang leader who’d literally taken over every branch of city government. Of course she would feel no guilt over pulling an inmate into a top secret mission. 

“She needed Oliver’s help,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. It figures. He’s a criminal until the FBI can’t handle their own business, and then suddenly he’s an asset. Felicity thought they were done with this kind of shit when Waller was killed. Clearly, she was wrong. 

“I overheard the FBI agents that came to pick him up,” Bill says. “All of those special agent guys think they’re so much better than us. They didn’t even notice that I was in the break room when they came in talking.” 

“What did they say?” 

“The FBI offered Oliver his freedom if he agreed to work with them on a case,” Bill says. 

This is it. This is the plan that Oliver had been talking about. When he’d told her that they were always watching, he hadn’t been talking about the prison staff. He’d been talking about the FBI. They didn’t want Oliver telling anyone about his mission. Oliver hadn’t listened, though. Not entirely. He’d told her that he had a plan to come back to them. 

“Did they say what he was doing in Montana?” she asks. 

Bill shakes his head. “No,” he says. “But they both seemed to be under the impression that Oliver would get killed before he had a chance to be free.” 

“They’re going to kill him?” she asks, her heart racing. 

“It sounded like the mission would,” Bill says. “When that lady was here, she was asking a lot of questions. She wanted to know who Oliver had a history with. If there was anyone that wanted him dead…” 

Felicity takes a moment to process what she’s hearing before the gears all shift into place. 

“Those assholes,” she whispers as a feeling of panic runs through her. “That’s why he couldn’t tell anyone. He’s going to die and they’re going to make it seem like he got killed in a prison yard fight.” 

Felicity wants to have faith in Oliver. She wants to believe that he’ll be able to come through this and get home to her. She does trust him to do everything in his power to complete this mission. It’s not him that has her feeling so uneasy. It’s Watson. 

****

Oliver stands in a tree in the woods, close enough to see the compound, but far enough away to avoid the suspicion of the guards they have patrolling the perimeter. He can’t hear what is happening. They’d both agreed that a terrorist cell would be suspicious enough to check for wires and was likely how the other agents had been made. Despite Watson’s protesting, Anatoly had gone in without a bug on him. So Oliver can’t hear what is going on, but he can see. 

He holds up the high tech binoculars that Cade had given him. Reading lips isn’t an exact science, but Oliver can get by alright when it’s necessary. He watches Anatoly’s exchange with the guards with bated breath. They are clearly suspicious of him, but they haven’t shot him yet, so that’s a good sign. 

Anatoly had probably been right that he needed to go alone. Not only would guards be suspicious of any any pairs, but pretty much all Americans at this point would be met with hostility. Speaking Russian or not, Oliver is obviously an American. As a fellow Russian, Anatoly stood the greatest chance at winning them over. 

Anatoly spins his tale about his truck breaking down a mile up the road. He casually lets slip that he’d seen another house up the road but hadn’t stopped because it looked like it was filled with government people. Watson isn’t going to be happy that Anatoly’s plan to win over the men at the compound involves outing the FBI, but Oliver doesn’t really care. If this doesn’t work, they are dead anyway. 

As planned, Anatoly offers the men part of the drug shipment he’d been driving down from Canada in exchange for the use of their phone and a place to sleep for the night. Oliver holds his breath as the men deliberate. 

If they turn him down, that’s it. Their plan is ruined and the only option they’ll have left is to go in guns blazing. Any hope of a different cover for Anatoly will be blown. 

“What’s happening?” Watson asks through the comm in his ear. Anatoly might have been able to get away without being bugged, but Oliver hadn’t been so lucky. Watson is keeping him on a pretty tight leash. 

He doesn’t respond right away. He waits until he sees the guards shaking hands with Anatoly as they all laugh about something. He breathes a sigh of relief. 

“He’s in,” Oliver says, confident that Anatoly has won the men’s trust enough to be let through the doors. 

It takes close to forty minutes for two of the guards to walk with Anatoly to the broken down truck and arrive back with a crate full of drugs. Getting their hands on those had been a tough ask of the FBI. They’d eventually relented and given them the truck, but only after Oliver reminded them that the life of the first daughter is at stake and they were running out of time and options. 

Anatoly walks through the front doors of the complex and disappears inside with the men. The first part of their plan is complete. Anatoly is in. 

“I don’t have to tell you that, if you get caught, the FBI won’t have had anything to do with this,” Watson tells him. 

“If we get caught by Russian terrorists, the last name on either of our lips will be the FBI,” he tells her, rolling his eyes. Admitting that they are working with the FBI will earn them a public execution. Neither of them are stupid. There is a reason Anatoly and Oliver told the FBI that this needs to be a two person job. 

Knowing that they are in for a long night, and it’s going to be awhile before there is any signal from Anatoly to proceed with his part, Oliver sits down on the branch and waits. He watches the guards patrol the perimeter, assuring himself that they are keeping to the same pattern that they’d had the night before when they’d done recon. They can’t afford any surprises tonight. 

Oliver pulls one of the guns out of the holster and fiddles with it, growing comfortable with the feel of it in his hand. He wishes that he had a bow, but Watson hadn’t allowed him that luxury. Apparently, the threat of anyone realizing that he is the Green Arrow and talking is scarier than the thought of him failing and Mia Brayden getting put up for auction. 

He leans back against the trunk of the tree and looks up at the stars, wondering what William and Felicity are up to tonight. He pictures the two of them sitting on the couch, playing some Xbox game together. He longs to be there with them, even if just to sit on the couch and watch them banter back and forth. He wants to hear William talk excitedly about something he’d done in science class. He yearns to hear Felicity babble on about her latest tech idea. Hell, he even misses the two of them teasing him mercilessly. He just wants to be near them again.

He thinks back to the last time they were all together as a family. He smiles, thinking of William helping him cook breakfast for dinner. It was a long way from the days when he first moved in and he would lock himself in his bedroom, only coming out long enough to grab a plate and retreat back into his room. His fingers rub at the spot on his left finger where his wedding band used to sit before it was taken from him. Felicity and he had made out in the dining room that night. He’d promised her so much more once William went to bed… But that opportunity never came. 

Diaz had destroyed everything and set him on a path that eventually led here. To the most ambitious mission he’s ever attempted. 

Ambitious. 

Stupid. 

If Felicity were here, she would tell him it’s a stupid plan. That he’s risking too much by going through with it. The likelihood of them succeeding isn’t high. But he has to get home, and since he’s never going to get parole with the rap sheet the prison guards at Slabside drew up for him, this is his only option. 

Getting home to William and Felicity is worth the risk for him. 

“It’s working,” Cade’s voice comes over the comms. 

Oliver pulls the phone out of his pocket and is able to see several dots begin to appear in the blueprints of the compound. The walls of the compound are made in a way that have prevented the FBI from obtaining heat signatures with their satellites, but Cade had come up with another way of tracking the men. He’s snuck slightly a radioactive substance, nearly undetectable, into the drugs and vodka that Anatoly brought in. Anatoly only needed to convince the men to either do a hit or drink with him for them to have a clear view of what they are up against. 

“How do we know that he’s going to be able to convince everyone to do a hit with him?” Watson asks. “We could still be going in there blind.” 

“They’re Russian,” Oliver says. “If the drugs don’t draw them in, once Anatoly breaks out the vodka, the rest will follow. Have faith.” 

“And the women and children?” Watson asks. “What of them?” 

“I think we can manage against them,” he says. Even if they’ve trained up the women and children they have inside the compound, Oliver is confident he’ll be able to impacitate them without killing them. 

“We should have just put sedatives in the drugs,” Watson says. 

“The moment the first body went down, he would have been made and the entire plan would be ruined,” Oliver explains, not for the first time.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Watson tells him. 

Oliver rolls his eyes. If she wasn’t confident in his ability to pull this mission off, she shouldn’t have called him. 

It takes another hour, but eventually, Oliver sees the signal. A flashing light from one of the windows of the compound. He jumps down from the tree and makes his way quietly over to the wall of the compound. He checks his watch, waiting until it’s at the third minute, then scales the wall. The guard is just turning the corner. He has a thirty second window before the next guard comes. He jumps down and runs to the metal gate, quickly scaling that as well. He hurries across the lawn until he’s jumping through the open window that Anatoly has left for him. He quickly closes the window behind him and ducks down low, just as another guard walks past. 

He looks over at Anatoly, who is seated beside him. “What did I say. Pieces of cake, yes?” 

“Let’s go,” Oliver says, standing up. He takes his gun out of the hollister and screws the silencer on. He holds it up, ready in case they encounter any problems. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and tosses it to Anatoly to navigate, as well as hands him a gun for himself. 

“Did you see where they are keeping the girls?” he asks as they both step out into the hallway. 

“Shockingly, men are not too keen to give up their secret to stranger,” Anatoly says. “But, they show me every place except hallway down there.” 

Oliver walks in the direction that Anatoly points, listening closely for any sign of life. 

“Three men coming, hallway up left,” Anatoly says. They both duck into an empty room and wait for the men to pass. 

“Queen, what’s going on?” Watson asks. “We need an update.” 

Oliver yanks the comm out of his ear and puts it into his pocket. He doesn’t need her distracting him during this mission. He might be used to having somebody in his ear when he’s out in the field, but that person is Felicity. Watson certainly isn’t Overwatch. 

“This is where big door is,” Anatoly points to something on the screen. Oliver leans over his shoulder to look at it. The doorway he is pointing to, leads to nothing. On the blueprints, it’s not even a door. It’s a wall. 

“That’s got to be where they are hiding the girls,” Oliver says. Oliver knows enough about secret hideouts to know that you don’t put them on blueprints that any city official could access. 

Oliver peeks his head out to see that the hallway is empty again. 

“Let’s go,” he says. 

They quietly make their way up the hallway and to the locked door at the end. 

“Does this feel too easy to you?” Oliver asks as Anatoly hands him the phone and pulls a knife out of his pocket to begin picking at the series of locks. 

Anatoly looks up and down the hall, before looking back at him. “Where are men to guard door?” 

“Did they strike you as stupid enough to leave this place unguarded?” he asks, once again looking up and down the hallway for any sign of life and seeing none. It’s weird. A place with this much security should be guarding their prized catches. “Maybe this isn’t the right place?” 

“Perhaps?” Anatoly says. “You want to move on? Check other place?” 

Oliver shakes his head. They are already here and something is behind this door. They may as well check it out first. He hears the sound of the first lock sliding open, as Anatoly moves on to the second lock. 

“First thing I do with freedom is check out American baseball game,” Anatoly whispers, so not to be overheard by anyone that might be walking near. Oliver looks down at the phone, there are a few men one hallway over, but they are walking away from them. 

“We get out of here alive, I’ll take you,” he promises. 

Oliver spots some dots moving their direction and he grabs Anatoly. They quickly move back into the secluded room to wait. Oliver listens with his ear to the door. 

“I don’t know why we’re selling her,” one of the men says. “We can use her to get to President Brayden.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” the other man says. “Getting caught with the president’s daughter is the quickest way to get ourselves killed. Besides, once the Taliban buys her off of us, we’ll have all the money we need for our plans.” 

“It’s ISIS not the Taliban you racist mother fucker,” he says.

Oliver feels his stomach turn grow heavy. It’s one thing to hear about the plans for Mia in theory, it’s another to have them confirmed. Oliver might have only agreed to this mission so that he could see his family again, but now that he’s involved, he cares just as much about getting Mia out of this as he does about his own freedom. Probably more. 

Oliver listens to them argue back and forth, their voices getting more and more distant. 

“We can’t let Mia get taken,” Oliver says to Anatoly. 

“No,” Anatoly agrees. “These men are bad. Those men... They are worse.” 

He gives Anatoly a curious look, and his friend shakes his head. “I saw many of Arab terrorist when I was in Navy. You think you have darkness inside you, but I assure you, these men are true monster.” 

Oliver checks the phone to make sure that nobody else is coming their way before they sneak back out to the door. Anatoly continues working for another few minutes before finally, the door is unlocked. Oliver pockets the phone and uses both hands to hold up his gun while Anatoly opens the door. 

The two of them walk down a long, cold hallway. It’s unfinished. Concrete walls and floor with minimal lighting. Much different from bright fluorescent lights and white tile in the rest of the complex. A man jumps out at them and Oliver quickly shoots him. He goes down before he has a chance to make a sound and alert anyone. 

They continue walking, taking out men one by one as they appear out of the shadows. Finally, they reach another doorway. 

“You want to pick this one, too,” Oliver gestures to the door, but Anatoly shakes his head. He crouches down by one of the fallen men and pulls a set of keys out of his pocket. 

“We use key,” he says. 

It takes a few tries to get the right one, but he does and the door swings open. 

The room is filled with women who are crudely chained to the concrete walls. They all are dressed in torn clothing and look like they haven’t showered in weeks. They are buried under so much dirt and grime that Oliver can barely make out their faces. The dead look in their eyes claws at his heart. 

They can’t just rescue Mia. They need to figure out a way to help all of these women. 

“Over here,” Anatoly says. 

He’s across the room and leaning over a poor girl who’s curled up into herself. Oliver rushes over and leans down. It’s not as easy to tell with all the grime on her face, but this is Mia Brayden. Oliver’s seen her enough on the news to know. And even if he hadn’t, he’s met her mother before. They bare a striking resemblance. 

“It’s okay,” Oliver tells her, putting his gun into it’s hollister and holding up both of his hands so she can see that he’s not going to hurt her. “We’re here to take you home.” 

The girl looks up at him with cautious eyes. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he says. 

“You’re Oliver Queen,” she says, her voice sounds hoarse. Oliver imagines they haven’t been giving her water. “You’re the Green Arrow.” 

Oliver smiles at her. So much for Watson’s plan for him to keep a low profile. “We’re here to help you, okay?” 

“Is he a vigilante, too?” Mia asks, looking at Anatoly, who just snorts. 

“No,” Anatoly says. “I do not wear silly mask.” 

“He’s a friend. He helped me get in here,” Oliver explains. “You can trust us.” 

Mia nods and Anatoly uses the keys in his hand to unlock her chains. Once she’s uncuffed, he helps her to her feet. Oliver looks around before turning back to Anatoly. 

“We can’t just leave the rest of them here,” he says. 

Anatoly sighs. “No.” 

One of the women begins whimpering. When Oliver steps closer to her, he can her what she’s trying to say. “Help.” 

He walks over to the woman and crouches down. She looks like she’s barely conscious. He moves some hair out of her face to get a proper look at her. Faster than he can truly process what is going on, the woman grabs a hold of his wrist and jams a knife into his stomach. In his moment of confusion and pain, she takes the gun out of the hollister and shoots both Anatoly and Mia. She then shoots him in the side. He has only a split second to thank god that he had the good sense to use tranq bullets instead of real ones before everything goes black. 

****

Felicity parks her car on the deserted street and walks down the alley to the entrance of their new bunker. Well… Technically it’s their old bunker, but with all of the upgrades that Cisco is currently doing to their old hideout at Verdant, it’s new enough. She uses the fingerprint and retina scanner to unlock the door before heading down the stairs. 

It’s here that she literally runs into somebody and they both fall down the last three steps. 

“What the…” Felicity scrambles to her feet and looks down to see William dressed up in his father’s Green Arrow suit. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

William stands and pulls his hood back up. It’s ridiculous. He’s swimming in the thing. He’d been better off before when he’d gone out in all black and used her eyeliner to make a mask for himself. At least then his clothes had fit. He’s in as much danger of tripping over the bottoms of the pants and stabbing himself with an arrow as he is getting killed by one of the thugs he’s going after. 

“I found Diaz,” he says, a determined look in his eyes. 

“What?” she asks, her eyes growing wide. She’s been running searches for Diaz all summer and has come up with nothing. How in the world had William found that snake… Her confusion lifts as her eyes move over to her computers and she sees them flashing red with an alert. William hadn’t found Diaz. He’d simply been here when one of her searches finally found something. 

“Where’s Roy?” she asks. William isn’t supposed to be down here without an adult. The bunker isn’t set up to accept his fingerprint or retina scan. She’d removed his access when he’d decided to start playing vigilante. 

“He ran out to get us lunch,” William says with a shrug. 

“And he left you here?” she asks, her blood boiling. She’s talked to Roy about how important it is to watch William closely. 

“I told him I wouldn’t touch anything and I didn’t,” he grumbles. 

Felicity laughs, though nothing about this is funny. She gestures down to his outfit. “What do you call this?” 

“I didn’t touch anything until I saw that alert on Diaz,” he says, defensively. “When I agreed to your rules, it didn’t include us finding Diaz.” 

“What is your plan here, William?” Felicity asks. “Diaz is working with the Longbow Hunters. Do you know what that means? You can’t fight these guys.” 

“I wasn’t going to fight them,” he says, holding up a grenade. Felicity’s breath catches in her throat. 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” she says. “How were you going to be sure that you got far enough away from the blast once you threw it?” 

William shrugs and Felicity’s eyes well with tears as her heart drops. In some ways, William is way too much like his father. 

“Okay,” she says. “I’m putting you back in therapy and this time, you’re actually going.” 

“Fine,” he agrees. “Now can I go?” 

“No. We’ll send somebody else,” she tells him. “Go change.” 

“Nobody else is here and we can’t let him get away. He’s the reason that Dad is in jail,” William argues. 

“Okay, I love your father, but  _ Oliver _ is the reason that Oliver’s in jail,” Felicity says. “Now go get changed, I don’t have time for this.” 

She still has to figure out what kind of suicide mission Watson has Oliver running in Montana so that she can save him. 

“Dad only turned himself in because he was scared of Diaz hurting us and needed the FBI’s help,” William says, stomping his foot. 

“And what? Taking out Diaz is going to get your dad released from prison?” she asks, confounded that he’s honestly about to storm out of here to take down a man that his own dad hadn’t been able to stop. 

William’s eyes go to the ground and he shrugs. “At least I’m trying.” 

Felicity sighs. “I’m trying, too,” she says. “Listen, I’m not supposed to say anything, but your dad is working on something…” 

William looks up at her with wide eyes, she can see the growing hope behind them. 

“Don’t get too excited yet,” she warns him. 

“He’s breaking out?” he asks. 

Felicity shakes her head. “Watson offered him his freedom if he helped her with something.” 

William’s eyes narrow. “He shouldn’t trust that woman. She’s a traitor. She cared more about taking Dad down than she did helping the city.” 

Felicity doesn’t disagree, but that’s not what they need to be focusing on right now. 

“I want to get Diaz as much as you do,” she tells him, begging him to understand. “And we will. But right now, I have to focus on helping your dad and I can’t do that if you’re out there in the field.” 

“He’s in trouble, isn’t he?” he asks. 

Felicity doesn’t want to scare him, but she worries that William won’t take this seriously enough if she covers up the truth. 

“Yes.”

William stares at her for several moments before he finally blinks and nods. 

“Will you please go get changed so that I can get to work?” Felicity asks. 

“You promise that we can go after Diaz as soon as we finish helping Dad?” 

“I promise that the team will go after Diaz as soon as we finish helping your dad,” she clarifies with a pointed look. 

William doesn’t look happy about it, but he nods and begins walking back over to the case that displayed Oliver’s suit before William had taken it down. She’s almost to her computers when he turns back to look at her. 

“Don’t trust Watson,” he warns her. 

It’s unnecessary. Felicity thinks she had trusted Malcolm Merlyn to help save Oliver’s life more than she trusts Samandra Watson to do so. 

****

Oliver blinks his eyes open slowly as his head pounds. It’s clear that he was drugged and it takes him a minute before remembering getting shot with one of his tranq bullets. His hand goes to his side, wincing as he touches the spot where he’d been shot. He can’t see it, but he’s sure there’s a massive bruise from the hit. He looks down at his vest and traces over the fraying spot where the woman had stabbed him. Thankfully, the kevlar had protected him from serious injury. He’d been naive to let down his guard around that woman. He knows better than to trust anyone outside of his team when he’s in the field. 

“Looks like we both trade one cell for another,” Anatoly says, pulling Oliver’s attention. 

He sits up from his spot on the ground and takes in their surroundings. They are both locked up in a cell together with thick medal bars. The cell is located in a tiny room with only one door in. 

“Is that…” 

“A vault?” Anatoly says, smiling wistfully. “I believe our reputation precedes us.” 

“They didn’t trust the metal bars to keep us in, so they locked us in a vault?” he asks, standing up on his feet and looking around for any sign of how they might be able to break out. 

“Makes you second guess telling whole world about mask you wear?” 

Oliver glares at him. “You know why I did that.” 

“You made that deal, because you are honorable man,” Anatoly says. “But tell me, do you see FBI coming to get us? Do you think this… Agent Watson… Do you think she is honorable woman?” 

“The FBI won’t be coming to get us,” Oliver says, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. “We’re on our own.” 

“Americans,” he says, nodding his head like he’s impressed. “You criticize much, but KGB take many pages from your country book.” 

Oliver shakes his head. “I wouldn’t base my entire opinion of the FBI on Watson,” he argues.

Anatoly shrugs. “Perhaps,” he says. “Or perhaps you still like to see good in people, even when they show true face.” 

Oliver looks over at him, curiously, trying to figure out what he means by it. 

“Well, everyone but yourself. Though, that, I believe, is changing. No?” Anatoly says. “This Felicity, she is good for you.” 

“The best,” he adds, before going back to what he was saying before. “But I’m not sure I get what you mean.” 

“Old days, you kill without remorse. Now, you give everyone second chance,” Anatoly says. “Sometimes, there is middle line.” 

“I won’t kill again,” he says, defensively. “I’ve moved past that.” 

“Not even to see wife and son?” Anatoly asks. 

Oliver looks away from him. He isn’t going to retreat back to the monster he used to be. He can’t. He’s better than that. He’s learned that nobody has the right to play judge, jury, and executioner. 

Anatoly walks over to stand beside him. He pats him on the back once before leaning against the bars so he can look at Oliver. “These men in here, they are not Bratva. This is not brotherhood you know. In Bratva, we are criminals because government is corrupt and give us no other choice to feed family.” 

Anatoly looks around the room for a moment before leaning in closer. “These men are terrorist. They wish to destroy your country. There is no code. They kidnap innocent women for money. The ones they do not sell, they keep. They rape. They force to marry. And that’s not even goal. Goal is to attack. September 11... Beslan School hostage crisis… Mumbai… They are capable of all this and more. I spend short time with these men and I already see they are monsters. They will not change.” 

“I was a monster,” he argues. “I changed.” 

“You are good man who touched evil,” Anatoly says. “Not same.” 

Oliver lets his words sink in. He’s seen enough of the FBI files on this group to know that Anatoly is right. They are capable of horrible things. With the money they will make from the sale of Mia, they could do anything. Not to mention the horror that will occur if ISIS gets their hands on the president’s daughter. 

“I am not saying you need to kill all,” Anatoly tells him. “I just think, to get out and protect girl, you may not have choice.” 

There is a sound of metal scraping against metal. They both look at the door to see the circular pattern moving that can only be the backside of the outside handle spinning. Oliver looks back to Anatoly and he’s staring at him, begging him to understand something. 

“Remember, their monster, not same.” 

The door swings open loudly and three men walk into the vault before shutting the door again, locking themselves in. 

“ _ Well, well, well. It appears we have a superhero in our midst _ ,” one of the men steps forward, speaking in Russian. 

“ _ I am flattered, but I think you are mistaken _ ,” Anatoly says with an amused smirk. “ _ I am no superhero _ .” 

“ _ Who sent you _ ?” another man asks, looking directly at Oliver. 

Oliver shrugs. He’s not about to say the FBI. “ _ Who says that anyone sent me _ ?” 

“ _ Ah, Robin Hood speaks Russian _ ,” the first man says, before turning back to Anatoly. “ _ Did you teach him that _ ?” 

“ _ I tried _ ,” Anatoly says. “ _ As you can tell by his pronunciation, he is a terrible student _ .” 

Oliver rolls his eyes before crossing his arms. “ _ What do you want? _ ” 

“Answers,” the second man says. “ _ You can either give them to us now, or we can torture them out of you _ .” 

Oliver chuckles. “Oh I would like to see you try,” he says in English. 

The third man steps forward, sticking his hand through the bars with a taser stick. He’s too slow. Oliver grabs it out of his hand and quickly turns it around so that it hits the man and he goes falling to the floor. The first man reaches for his gun and points it at him. Oliver notices that the back of his hand is touching the metal. He quickly pulls the taser stick back and electrocutes the bar, sending the shock through the first man, who slumps to the floor.

Anatoly grabs for the gun at the same time that the second man does. 

“ _ Give us the keys _ ,” Oliver says, in warning. 

“ _ No _ ,” the man says, firing off his gun. Anatoly dodges out of the way and fires his own gun, hitting the man in the head. He falls to the floor. 

“Give us keys?” Anatoly says, turning to look at Oliver like he’s crazy. “You think it that easy? How did you survive this long without me?” 

“I can handle myself,” he argues. 

“That why you have wife in your ear telling you what to do?” Anatoly laughs as he shoots out the lock of their cell and pushes open the door. 

Oliver steps out and begins pocketing the men’s weapons. “How are we going to get this door open?” he asks. 

Anatoly shakes his head as he searches through the pockets of one of the men. “Impossible. Steel is bulletproof. We have to wait for door to open again.” 

Oliver looks up to the camera located in the corner. No doubt, somebody has just seen them take out three of their men. “They are going to come back with an army.” 

Anatoly nods as he locates a cell phone and hands it to Oliver. “Which is why you call army of your own.” 

He shakes his head. “Watson won’t send anyone in after us.” 

“I’m not talking Watson.” 

****

Felicity stares at the map she’s pulled up on her computer as she talks to the team over the comms. Digg had borrowed a helicopter from Lyla as soon as Felicity realized exactly what it was that Oliver was up against. She still hasn’t been able to break into the FBI files, but a wider search had lead her to find a Russian terrorist cell up the road from where Oliver had been spotted with Anatoly. It didn’t take her genius level IQ to figure out that Watson has Oliver going after the cell. 

William sits beside her, watching the entire thing. Agreeing to let him help her had been the only thing that had kept him off of that helicopter. 

“I can’t get heat signatures,” she informs them. “But I have blueprints of the building. And satellite images look like there is an entire wing that wasn’t in the city plans. I’m guessing that’s where they do their illegal activity. I’d focus my attention there.” 

“We’re about five minutes out,” Digg informs her. “Do you have any other intel you can give us.” 

“Nothing good,” she tells him. “These guys are brutal, you need to be careful.” 

“Shoot first, ask questions later. Got it,” Rene says. 

“You’d better,” William warns. 

He still hasn’t forgiven the team for quitting Team Arrow last year. He argued with Felicity that he didn’t think they should be trusted to save Oliver, but Felicity argued that they needed as many numbers as they could get. 

They are essentially going in blind. She can give them the schematics of the building, but she has no idea how many men they will be up against when they infiltrate the compound. The terrorist cell is rumored to have thousands of members worldwide, but there is no telling how many of those men are currently in Montana. 

Felicity’s phone starts to ring, but she’s got her hands full with the mission so William grabs it. 

“It’s a 406 area code,” he says. 

She has no idea what that means. She doesn’t know anyone with a 406 area code or even where that is. 

“It’s probably a telemarketer,” she tells him. “Let the—” 

She’d been about to tell him to let the machine get it, but William picks up the call. 

“Hello?... Dad?!” William exclaims, which certainly gets Felicity’s attention. She grabs the phone out of his hands and flips it to speaker. 

“Oliver?” 

“Hey, so… funny story,” he says, sounding out of breath. 

“You’re in Montana attempting to take down a terrorist group?” she finishes for him. 

“How did you…” he trails off, confusion fills his voice. 

“Facial recognition picked up Anatoly and you,” she says. “Bill filled in the rest.” 

“Bill? How does he… Nevermind. It’s not important,” he says. “We need help.” 

“The team is on their way, they are 3 minutes out,” she tells him. 

She can hear Oliver’s sigh of relief loud and clear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, pausing for a moment to cherish the fact that she’s talking to him. That he hasn’t gotten himself killed yet. “Now talk me through what’s happening. I’m going to patch you into our comms so that the team can hear.” 

Oliver starts explaining the situation as Felicity connects the rest of the team to the call. She’s floored when Oliver informs them that they’d been on a mission to rescue the president’s daughter. She literally has no clue how that information hasn’t leaked out to the media yet. Especially if there is an auction about to happen. Having that wide of a circle without anyone spilling the secret is unheard of. 

She listens in as the team hits the ground and a seemingly never ending string of gunfire sounds. She gives tips as she can, but without eyes inside of the compound, there’s very little that she can actually do. 

William reaches out and grabs onto her hand as they listen in on the sounds of their loved ones fighting. 

“They’re going to make it through this, right?” William asks. 

Felicity doesn’t have any reassuring words for him right now. She’s not sure that the team is prepared for something of this level. Instead, she reaches out to wrap her arm around his shoulders and pull him in close. For the time being, there isn’t any hacking to do, so she doesn’t need her hands free. William needs her more than Oliver does. 

The two of them stare at the satellite feed of the outside of the compound, waiting… hoping that they will catch a glimpse of the team coming out of the doors soon. It’s over an hour of fighting before any movement is seen outside that isn’t a random terrorist running for his life. Dinah comes limping out slowly, followed by a long line of women. 

“Oliver?” she says, forgetting all about the need for code names. Really, it’s useless at this point. Everyone knows who he is. 

“We’re okay,” he assures her. 

She breathes a sigh of relief, but it’s William who actually starts crying. Felicity rubs his back in soothing circles as she listens to the team debating with each other over what to do about the women and children who were found upstairs in the living quarters of the compound. Many of which, are actually fighting back against liberation. 

“If they don’t want to be saved, let their asses stay,” Rene says after a teenage boy shoots at him. 

“They don’t know any better,” Oliver argues. “This is all they’ve ever known.” 

“Maybe we let the FBI handle the rest,” Roy suggests. 

Felicity shakes her head. Normally, she’d agree with Roy that there are certain cleanup tasks that are beyond their job description, but with Watson involved, Felicity doesn’t think it’s a good idea. 

“There’s Dad,” William says, pointing at the screen to where Oliver is carrying a girl out of the building. 

“Is that…” she starts to ask. 

“I’ve got Mia,” Oliver says, handing her off to Diggle who helps load her up in the helicopter. 

“You make sure she gets to DC immediately,” Oliver tells him. 

“You’re not coming with us?” Digg asks. 

Felicity sees Oliver shaking his head while gesturing around to all the women standing out in the clearing of the woods. “I’ve got some things to clear up first here before I can come home.” 

She watches as Digg and Oliver hug before the rest of the team hop on the helicopter and take off. 

Moments later, FBI vehicles along with countless police officers and paramedics start showing up. 

“Felicity?” 

She can hear what Oliver isn’t saying. She quickly switches him off so that he’s only on the line with the two of them. 

“It’s just us,” she says. 

“Thank you,” he says. He sounds exhausted. 

“When are you coming home?” William asks. 

“Soon, Buddy. Soon.” 

They say their last goodbyes before Felicity hangs up the phone so that Oliver and Anatoly can talk with Watson. She leaves up the feed through, unable to look away. As relieved as she feels that they’d managed to save Oliver’s life and liberate all those women, there’s still a general feeling of unease in her stomach that she can’t pinpoint. 

It doesn’t take long to figure out what it is. 

William and her watch in horror as Watson has two agents place handcuffs back onto Oliver’s wrists and led him away. 

****

Oliver sits in his empty cell in solitary, throwing a tennis ball at the wall repeatedly. It’s been a week since the events in Montana, and Oliver’s been in solitary ever since. His punishment for “escaping” apparently. 

He shakes his head in frustration. It’s amazing, the lengths that the FBI is going through to cover up for the fact that they let him out of prison to do their jobs for them. It’s total bullshit. Watson never had any intention of freeing him. She’s planning on keeping him locked up until she’s ready to use him again. Of course, she didn’t say that to him when she was ordering her agents to handcuff him, but Oliver saw through her lies. This isn’t about keeping a dangerous criminal off the streets, this is about control. 

She’s in for a rude awakening the next time she comes calling for him. There’s not a chance in hell he’s doing anything for her ever again. 

When he’d come to her for help with Diaz and they made a deal, he honored it. He didn’t have to. He could have easily gotten out of it. Sure, he would have subjected all of his loved ones to a life on the run, but he would have been free. He didn’t back out, through. He honored their deal. 

He thinks back to Anatoly’s words, about how there is more honor among thieves than there is between the FBI and an inmate. Oliver hadn’t wanted to believe it when he’d said it. He’d wanted to badly to see his family again that he’d gotten lost in that hope. He hadn’t seen Watson’s betrayal, even though it was staring him in the face. 

The metal of the slit in the door slides open and Bill passes a newspaper through. 

“You’re going to want to take a look at this,” he tells him. 

Oliver stands up and walks over to the door and takes the newspaper from him. He unfolds it and looks at the picture on the front. It’s a split image. On the left is a picture of Mia Brayden, her arm in a sling as she waves from some podium. On the right is his mug shot. The headline reads, “Oliver Queen, Criminal or National Hero?” 

“Why are you giving this to me?” Oliver asks. 

He’d already seen the press conference that Mia gave yesterday, calling him a hero and criticizing the federal government for convicting him. She’d even gone as far as to call the FBI out for being the ones to take him out of prison to save her, questioning anyone that truly believes he escaped from prison of his own accord. 

The media has been having a field day, going back and forth over the entire case. Many are calling Mia an unreliable witness. The idiots over at Fox News continue to bring up the fact that she's a party girl, which is the entire reason she was able to be kidnapped in the first place. Other news stations are taking her story and running with it. There have been countless debates over the FBI, with many calling for the resignation of its director. 

Bill brings him these stories every day, but they don’t really do anything. He’s still stuck in here. In solitary, nonetheless, where he can’t even talk to his family on the phone. 

“Because I think you need to see something,” Bill says, passing his phone through the door. 

Oliver takes it and looks down at the picture on the screen. Hundreds of people are standing in the parking lot of Slabside, many of them holding picket signs that read #FreeOliverQueen. 

“Now it looks like I’m not the only one that thinks you’re a hero.”

****

“No!” William yells and Felicity hears the water bowl slam against the wall. It’s a good thing that they were using plastic bowls, since this is becoming a daily occurance. 

Felicity ignores the outburst and lets Roy handle it. She continues to work on her computer. They lost Diaz after Montana, but Felicity is confident that they’ll find him again. Knowing where he was will certainly help her narrow her search. Hunting down Diaz is a good distraction, at the very least, from everything that is going on. 

“Looks like that joint therapy session you went to this morning didn’t do any good,” Roy says to her, walking away from the situation entirely as William starts throwing things at the wall. 

“He’s angry,” Felicity says, turning around in her chair to look at Roy properly. “His dad was promised his freedom and it was revoked. You’d be angry, too.” 

“I  _ am _ angry, too,” Roy says, shaking his head. “You aren’t going to keep him out of the hood for long. He needs a release.” 

“I know,” she says with a sigh. “But he’s not ready to go out in the field. He’s too young.” 

Roy nods. “I hate to leave when he’s like this…” 

“Go,” she says, knowing that he has plans to Skype Thea. Their schedules are crazy and with the time difference, they don’t get to talk to each other as often as they should. Today they are both free and Felicity's not going to stand in their way. Somebody around here should get to talk to their spouse. Slabside isn’t allowing Oliver visitors or phone calls after his supposed escape. 

“I’ll see you when you get home,” Roy says, leaning down to give her a hug. “Don’t stay too late.” 

She watches as he goes, waiting for the door to click shut before she stands up and walks over to William. 

“Hey,” she says cautiously. William is sitting in the corner. He’s still upset, but he’s stopped throwing things. “What’s going on?” 

“I hate slapping that stupid water!” he yells. “What is it supposed to teach me anyways! He said he was going to teach me how to shoot!” 

Felicity nods. “You know, your dad used to make Roy do the same thing. It pissed him off, too.” 

William rolls his eyes. “Then why does he make me do it?” 

“I don’t know,” she admits. “It’s some inside thing that only archers understand.” 

“He’s hazing me,” William says, unamused. 

“Something tells me, who you’re really angry with isn’t Roy.” 

William doesn’t respond, but his increasingly labored breathing tells her that she’s hit a nerve. 

“It’s okay,” she says. “You can say it.” 

“I’m just so mad at him,” William says. “He never should have trusted Watson! Why didn’t he just get on the helicopter with Digg and come home?” 

Felicity reaches out and puts her arm around his shoulders. She doesn’t say anything. She just listens. 

“The entire country thinks that he’s a hero for saving Mia and those girls and he’s still in prison,” he argues. “And they won’t even let us talk to him! It’s not fair!” 

She shakes her head. He’s right. None of this is fair. Nothing she can say is going to make any of it better, either. The person that Wiliam needs right now is his dad, and he’s not here. 

“I thought the government was supposed to be the good guys,” he says. 

“I don’t think the world is that black and white,” she admits. “I think the line between good and bad gets blurred a lot… You know, most people would consider me a bad guy.”

William looks up at her in confusion. “You?” 

“Yeah,” she says. For a split second she debates telling him about Havenrock, but decides against it. He’s not ready to hear that story and she’s not ready to tell it to him. “Hacking is against the law, even if you’re doing it to help other people.” 

“If you’re doing something to help somebody else, it shouldn’t be illegal,” he says, frustrated. “They should write a law about that.” 

“It’s hard though,” she says. “You know, your father once fought a man who wanted to protect people. He was tired of the crime in the Glades. His wife was murdered and too many of his friends had experienced a lot of trauma because of the criminals in the Glades. So you want to know what he did?” 

“What?” 

“He decided to build a machine that would level the entire Glades,” she explains. “That man killed 503 people, but in his mind, he thought he was helping people.” 

“But that’s not right. You can’t just kill people,” he argues. 

“Your dad has,” she reminds him. William glares at her and is about to protest, but she holds up her hand to stop him. “I’m just saying… The world isn’t so black and white. It’s difficult sometimes to say what is good and what is bad. The government, most of the time, tries to help people.” 

“Whatever. I hate that Watson lady, she can go jump off a cliff,” William grumbles. 

Felicity can’t argue with that. “I agree. If I could tank her credit score and wipe out her retirement fund without being her first suspect, I would do it… I just don’t want to see you take all of your mistrust in Watson and assume that no part of the government can be trusted. It’s not true.”

“I guess.” 

The door at the top of the stairs clicks open and Felicity looks up, assuming that it’s Digg. The team hadn’t been planning on coming in today, but she knows that Digg is still tinkering with his weapons closet, arranging everything in the way he likes it. 

The last person she expects to walk down the stairs is Oliver. 

She is on her feet and running into his arms before her brain even has time to start asking questions about how he’s here. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his neck as his arms tighten around her waist. She can feel him take a deep breath in as he buries his nose in her hair, and she gets it. He’s been gone for so long, she wants to take in every aspect of this moment, too. Right down to the feeling of his overgrown facial hair against her cheek and the unfamiliar scent of whatever cheap soap he’s been using in prison. 

William joins in on their hug and Felicity knows that she should step back and give her stepson time with his dad, but she can’t seem to get her arms to let go of Oliver. Instead, Oliver lifts one of his hands from her waist and wraps it around William and the three of them stand there, holding one another tightly. 

Somebody starts to cry first, and she’s not quite sure who it is, but once one of them starts, the other two quickly follow. 

There is so much that she wants to say, but the only thing she is able to get out is his name. 

“Oliver…” 

“I know,” he says, rubbing her back in soothing circles. His arm eventually drops to his side and she takes that as her sign to step back. Oliver puts his hands on William’s shoulders and takes a good look at him. 

“You’ve gotten so tall,” Oliver says, laughing through his tears. 

“What are you doing here?” William asks the question she’s been too overcome with emotion to get out. 

A throat clears and there is the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs, one of them, a pair of heels. Felicity looks up at their intruders. Her jaw drops as her eyes land on Susan Brayden. The president of the United States is walking down the stairs and into their bunker flanked by three men in black suits. 

“So this is where the magic happens,” President Brayden says as she reaches the bottom step and looks around. 

“Uh…” Felicity is unable to form any coherent words. 

“President Brayden, this is my wife, Felicity Smoak, and my son, William,” Oliver introduces them. His hand falls to the small of her back, and it’s good that it does. It helps to ground in her what she’d be otherwise sure was dream of some kind. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” President Brayden says, holding out her hand to shake theirs. Felicity does so tentatively, still trying to figure out what the hell is going on. The men, who she assumes are secret service, begin walking around the bunker and touching everything. An uneasy feeling settles into her stomach. 

“I apologize for them,” President Brayden says as one of the agents pulls what looks like a TSA wand out and begins waving it over all of their suits. She doesn’t know what they are looking for, she wants to yell at them to stop… Her mind is already scrambling for excuses as to why they have all of this stuff, despite the fact that everyone already knows that Oliver is the Green Arrow. As much as she’s just tried to convince William not to lose his faith in the government, she certainly has. 

“Dad?” William looks at Oliver in concern. Felicity is sure that she can’t look much better. What could they possibly be doing down here? They already arrested Oliver and sentenced him to life in prison. The rest of them are supposed to have immunity. And even if they didn’t, why would the president be here? 

“It’s okay,” Oliver assures them. “They are just making sure that things are safe down here. It’s their job.” 

Felicity looks up at Oliver and he smiles down at her, reassuringly. It helps untangle the knot in her stomach. If he’s not worried, then she shouldn’t be. She silently asks him what’s going on, but before he can say anything, President Brayden starts talking. 

“I want to thank both of you for your service.” She’s not looking at Oliver. She’s looking at William and her. 

“Us?” William asks. “I haven’t done anything. Felicity won’t let me.” 

Oliver looks at Felicity in question, but she just shakes her head and mouths, ‘later.’ They don’t really need to get into William’s vigilante aspirations in front of the freaking president of the United States. With their luck, William will get arrested next for taking the law into his own hands.  

“Having a father who risks his life every night to keep the city safe isn’t easy,” President Brayden says. “I know. My husband was in the Army for 15 years. You must be incredibly brave.” 

Oliver’s hand moves up her back and eventually he reaches out to grab hold of her shoulder and pull her in close to him. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest. She watches the internal debate going on behind William’s eyes. She knows that face. He’s debating between being the happy-go-lucky boy or the sullen teenager. She says a silent prayer that William doesn’t say anything to offend President Brayden. 

There are some people that even Felicity would never sass. 

“You think my dad is a hero?” William asks. Suspicion fills his voice, but thankfully, none of his newly developed attitude. 

“Don’t you?” President Brayden asks with a warm smile. 

Felicity has to bite her lip and take deep breaths to keep herself from crying at the comment. It’s been a long five months. Hell, it’s been a long few years. Having to constantly contend with the Anti-Vigilante Bill despite how many times they’ve saved this city has been draining. It’s frustrating to see The Green Arrow’s — and in turn, all of Team Arrow’s — names get dragged through the mud. Seeing how they’ve treated Oliver during his trial had been demoralizing for her. Because every insult they threw at him, had been personal. The Green Arrow’s work is every bit her as much as it is him. 

So hearing President Brayden even imply that she believes Oliver is a hero makes her emotional. Oliver must feel the same way if the way he’s squeezing her is any indication. For all his talk about not doing this for the thanks, it still sucks not to have gotten more support from the city they fought so hard to save. 

And she doesn’t count the recent protests to free him as support. Half the city only started caring about Oliver after he rescued the president’s daughter. None of them cared that The Green Arrow has saved their own lives numerous times before by preventing disaster after disaster. 

“Well yeah,” William says. “Obviously. But… Nobody else does. If they did, he wouldn't have been sent to jail.” 

President Brayden nods her head. 

“You know, I actually grew up in Star City — back then, it was called Starling City,” she explains, walking over to the display cases where they keep their suits are all lined up. Oliver’s is still featured prominently in the center. Despite his imprisonment and the fact that none of them were sure if he would ever get out, it hadn’t felt right to have the Green Arrow suit anywhere else. 

“I still have family here,” she says. She reaches out her hand and runs it over his hood.

William takes a step forward, his hands in fists and Felicity has to reach out and grab onto his shoulder to stop him from doing anything. He’s been incredibly protective of anyone but the two of them touching Oliver’s suit. When William looks to Oliver, he just nods, letting him know that it’s okay. 

William visibly relaxes, the tension in his small body disappearing. He steps closer to Oliver, who reaches out to pull William into his other side. She imagines, Oliver too, needs the tactile signs that he’s really here. He’s probably having a difficult time believing this is happening. 

She still doesn’t entirely understand what is happening, but she has an idea. One that she’s trying very hard to ignore, because if it’s not true, she’s going to be devastated… 

“Your father has done a great service to this city,” President Brayden says. “I’ve always admired his work. Even before the invasion. When he was arrested, I was saddened.” 

“Then why didn’t you do anything?” William asks harshly. 

There’s that teenage attitude she’s come to know and hate. She reaches out to pinch his side and glare at him. One look at Oliver’s face, tells her he’s completely confused by his tone. When Oliver left, William had still pretty much been a boy. She’s sheltered him from some of the harsher changes William’s gone through since he got sent to jail. 

“I wanted to,” President Brayden admits. 

Felicity stands up straighter so that she can make sure she hears every word. She still doesn’t dare hope. Oliver’s arm around her tightens and when she looks up at him, he’s struggling to hide a smile. That’s when her heart starts beating rapidly and she has to remind herself to take deep breaths. This is really happening. Oliver wouldn’t look like that if it wasn’t. 

Her heart squeezes painfully with how badly she needs to hear the words. 

“Contrary to what most people believe, the president doesn’t get to do everything they want,” she explains. “I wanted to pardon your father the moment I heard that he’d been sent to prison. I couldn’t do it through, not without more support.” 

“My dad once told me that being a leader means making the right decision even when it’s the unpopular one, because you know it’s the right thing to do,” William says, earning him another smack from Felicity. She needs him to stop interrupting her so that she’ll just say it. She won’t believe it’s happening until she says it. 

“Your dad is right,” President Brayden says. “Which is why I’m going to pardon him.” 

Felicity doesn't hear anything else she says after that. She doesn’t hear the rest of the exchange that William has with her. The world zeroes in and suddenly it’s just her and Oliver in the room. She looks up at him and he’s beaming down at her. 

“You’re coming home?” she whispers, her eyes filling up with tears. 

“I’m coming home,” he says with the widest smile she’s seen on him since their wedding. 

He leans in and kisses her properly. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in closer as she deepens the kiss, completely forgetting about everyone else in the room. She doesn’t pull back until Oliver does, and even then, it’s only because William is calling his name. 

“Thank you,” Felicity says to President Brayden when Oliver moves to hug William. 

She shakes her head and the two women step away from Oliver and William so the boys can share a private moment together. 

“It’s I who should be thanking you,” President Brayden says. “I’ve read the FBI files. I know that Oliver isn’t the only member of Team Arrow.” 

Felicity blushes, but doesn't admit to anything. Despite the FBI immunity and the fact that the news stations pretty much treat it as public knowledge that she’d been the Green Arrow’s tech expert, she has never admitted to being Overwatch. She’s honestly been terrified, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Watson to revoke the immunity deal and arrest her as well. She wasn’t about to give anyone any more ammunition to lock her up with. 

“The work that Team Arrow does saves lives.” 

“They do,” she says, noncommittally. President Brayden smiles at her knowingly. 

“I sincerely apologize for the hardships that Oliver’s conviction has caused your family,” she says. 

Felicity nods as she debates saying more. She wants to ask if President Brayden was aware that the prison guards had been corrupt, encouraging prison fights in an attempt to kill Oliver. Or if she had any idea while it was happening that Watson had pulled her husband into a suicide mission with every intention of abandoning him for dead if he failed. That Watson did abandon him. If Felicity hadn’t found out about the mission, Team Arrow never would have been there to save Oliver. Or Mia. 

Felicity wants to ask if President Brayden truly understands the hardships that she’s apologizing for. 

“You can speak freely,” President Brayden says. 

When Felicity looks up to her, trying to gage how serious she is, President Brayden nods her head. 

“How much did you know?” she asks. 

“About the mission Oliver was sent on?” 

Felicity nods her head. That. Watson. Everything…

“I didn’t even know that my own daughter had been kidnapped,” she says, which causes Felicity to do a double take. She wants to ask more, but the look of anger on President Brayden’s face has her holding back. She’ll ask Oliver about it later. 

“I assure you,” she continues. “I didn’t know what your husband was asked to do. That being said, I’m not sorry that they pulled him into the mission. Without Oliver’s involvement, my daughter would be dead.” 

Felicity nods. She can’t fault the woman for that. 

“Did you know that Watson promised him his freedom in exchange for his help?” she asks. 

President Brayden gives her a sad smile. “She was never authorized to promise him that. I feel badly that he was mislead in that way.” 

She nods, finding she actually believes the woman. She’s a politician. They build careers on lies and denial, but Felicity believes her. There’s a sincerity in her eyes that is hard to fake. 

“And did you know about the rest?” she asks. “Were you aware that he was being harassed at Slabside?” 

President Brayden sighs. “I wasn’t aware until ARGUS took control of the facility,” she admits. 

Felicity doesn’t know what she needs the woman to say beyond what she already has. She’s already agreed to pardon Oliver. Anything else, any other apologizes she could make wouldn’t do anything. Felicity can’t have the last five months of her life back. Oliver and William can’t have the trauma of this experience undone. The issues that she has, aren’t with President Brayden. She’s right. Even though she’s the president, there are only so many things within her control. 

“I can’t imagine what you think of me.” 

“Not you,” Felicity says, making it clear she has  _ plenty _ of thoughts, she just knows they shouldn’t be directed at her. 

President Brayden nods her head. “I would understand if you never trusted the government again after everything that happened. But, I hope this experience hasn’t changed your desire to keep working for the good of your city. Star City needs Team Arrow.” 

If Felicity is being honest, there have been days — bitter days where she’s been angry at the world for taking Oliver away — where she’s questioned everything she’s ever done for this city. If she were smart, she probably would quit and force Oliver to as well. But she can’t. Helping people is who she is. It gives her life a purpose. 

An alert rings and instantly, the secret service men all have their guns raised and pointed around, looking for a threat. Felicity holds up her hands, “Calm down, it’s not  _ here _ ,” she tells them as she rushes over to her computer.

“What is it?” Oliver asks, meeting her in front of her desk. 

She looks down at her screen to find that one of her searches finally came back. 

“It’s Diaz,” she says, reaching for the keyboard to pull up more information. 

“You found him?” William asks. 

Felicity looks up from her screen to meet his eyes. “You’re not going after him.” 

Oliver shifts his weight beside her and she can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn’t look away from William. Eventually, William throws his hands up. 

“Fine,” William says. “But you better not let him get away this time.” 

“We won’t,” she promises him. 

“Where is he?” Oliver asks. 

Felicity looks up at him. “You just got home. You don’t have to do this. I can call the team in.” 

“Is this Ricardo Diaz?” President Brayden asks, looking at Oliver who nods. “I can send in a team, Oliver. It’s the least we can do. The government should really have stepped in earlier. You never should have been left to take care of this on your own.” 

“No, we’ve got this,” Oliver says. 

“You deserve a night off with your family,” President Brayden says. 

Felicity agrees, but if she knows either of her boys, they won’t be able to enjoy time together until Diaz is taken care of. 

“I need to do this,” Oliver says, a determined look in his eyes. 

“We need to do this,” Felicity corrects him. 

And they do. Diaz is the source of all the pain they’ve experienced over the last year. They need the closure. 

“If you’re sure?” President Brayden asks.

“We are,” Oliver says. 

She nods her head and gestures to her men. They all head to the stairs without another word. 

“I’ll can give you forty-eight hours before making the announcement about your pardon. Until then the rest of the world will believe you’re still in prison,” President Brayden says. “Will that be enough time?” 

“Now that we’ve got a location? I only need a few hours,” Oliver says. 

The president nods and gives them all one final wave before heading up the stairs again, flanked by the secret services. Once the door clicks shut, she turns to Oliver. 

“So… That happened,” she says.

Oliver smiles down at her. “It did. And I have a lot of plans now that I’m free, but first…” 

“Diaz,” she confirms, turning back to her computer to finish running satellite images of the area so she’ll know what they are walking into. “Why did she ask if that was enough time? Like you two had planned this?” 

“Because we had,” he says. She looks up to him in question. “She asked me what she could do for me, apart from the pardon, to make up for everything. I asked her to give me 2 days to find and take out Diaz before announcing my pardon.” 

“You didn’t want the announcement to tip him off and send him deeper into hiding,” she says, knowingly. He nods. “Wait… you didn’t know I would find his location just now. You thought all you would need was two days?” 

Oliver shrugs. “I have faith in your abilities. Besides, I’m highly motivated to end this.” 

She nods. She’s motivated, too. Diaz has been allowed to roam the streets long enough. It’s time he got to experience the inside of a maximum security prison. 

“I’m gonna suit up,” he says. 

“The team will meet you there. They’re already on their way,” she tells him. They’d all been keeping backup suits in their car for this exact moment. None of them wanted to take any chances that Diaz would get away from them again. 

“Oh, and Felicity?” he asks. 

“Hmm?” 

“When I get back…” 

“Dessert?” she asks, hopefully. It’s been far too long since she’s been able to hold him in her arms. She needs to feel that connection to him again. 

“Yes,” he agrees. “But more importantly, we are going to talk about William.” 

She nods. He’s right. She’s kept him in the dark long enough. 

“You both know that you’re not being sneaky when you talk about desert right? I’m not five. I know you don’t mean ice cream,” William says, pretending to throw up. 

****

Oliver’s lips kiss their way up Felicity’s spine as his fingers trace patterns on her bare back. He wants to cherish every moment of laying in bed with her. For too long, he believed he’d never have this again. He didn’t believe he’d ever feel this safe and loved again. Being with her, now, it’s helping remind him of who he is. The permanent chill that he’s felt since he arrived at prison is beginning to finally thaw. 

He breathes in deeply and recommits the scent of her lavender body wash to memory. When he reaches the back of her neck, she starts to shift under him and he’s forced to move so that she can roll onto her back. Once she’s settled, she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. He settles between her thighs and looks down at her. He’s sure that he has a goofy smile on his face to match the one on hers. 

“Hey, you,” he whispers, not wanting to break the quiet moment they’ve been sharing in the aftermath of their third shared orgasm. 

“Glad to see prison didn’t teach you any new moves,” she teases, causing him to roll his eyes. 

“Do you need me to have some new moves?” he asks with a laugh. “I have some things I used to do back in the day, but I’m not sure you’re that kind of girl.” 

She scrunches up her nose in disgust. “No, I’m quite satisfied with your old moves thanks,” she says, her giggle quickly turning into a moan when he runs his finger softly through her folds. She reaches down to grab his wrist and pull it away from her body. 

“I don’t think I’m ready to go again,” she says with a pout. “You broke me.” 

“It’s been awhile… I was probably over enthusiastic,” he says. “Sorry if it was too much.” 

She shakes her head. “It was perfect. Just the right amount of much. I just… need some time to recover. It’s been awhile.” 

“For me, too. No pocket holding for me,” he teases, earning him a smack to the shoulder. She’d claim otherwise, but he knows that she gets jealous. Even teasing about him being with anyone else always has her defensive. 

“Still territorial I see,” he comments. 

“Not territorial,” she says, crossing her arms defensively. He leans down to place a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her lips. By the time he moves down to her neck, her hands have fallen to her sides. 

“Just smart enough to know that I need to watch out,” she says, running her fingers through his hair. “You’re an attractive man, everyone wants you.” 

“Lucky for you then that you have my heart.” He places a kiss to her heart as her nails scratch at his scalp. It feels heavenly. 

“You need a haircut,” she informs him. 

He looks up at her and she runs her fingers through his beard before tugging on the ends gently. 

“You don’t like it,” he says with a knowing look. 

He figured she wouldn’t be a fan, but it wasn’t like he’d had access to a razor over the last few weeks. Brayden had offered him the chance to clean up before she brought him home. However, he’d been too anxious to see his family and too nervous that something would go wrong again to prevent him from coming home, that he had turned the offer down. 

“You’re attractive no matter what your hair looks like,” she reminds him. “But the beard tickles.” 

Oliver smirks, ducking his head down between her thighs to rub his facial hair against them. She squirms and laughs, pushing his head away. 

“Stop,” she exclaims when he begins to tickle the back of her knees. He stops and moves to lay down beside her.

“You miss the burn.”

She blushes, the color going all the way to the tops of her breasts as she rubs her thighs together. He has to hold back a groan. 

His mind flashes back to the first time he’d had her that way, in that dingy little motel room. He’d woken up the next day and been mortified by how red the inside of her thighs had been, but she’d claimed to love it. She had refused to let him apologize for it. He’s teased her since about shaving his beard all the way off, and she’s never found it funny. She had him promise he never would. 

Despite the fact that he couldn’t possibly go another round with her, he still wants. Staring down at her, he can’t imagine doing anything but touching her. So he does. He runs his hand up and down her side as he leans over to lick at the spot on her breasts where the blush fades away. 

One of her hands fists into his hair and directs him down to her nipple. He complies, happily, licking around the hardening nipple before pulling it into his mouth. She pulls at his hair gently as her head falls back and a loan moan escapes her lips. 

“I thought you needed a break,” he teases her. 

“I do,” she whines. “But I’ve also missed you.” 

He runs his finger up and down her thigh, watching the goosebumps form on her body. He waits for a few moments, but eventually her legs open up to him and he’s able to run his finger through her lips. She sucks in a breath and bends her knees so that she can thrust up into his touch. 

“Surely you’ve at least touched yourself while I was away,” he says, circling his finger around her entrance, smiling as she grows wetter. 

He looks up to see her biting her lower lip hard and shaking her head. He’s surprised. 

“No?” he asks. He knows that she keeps a set of toys in a box under the bed. They’ve played with them before. Surely they are still there, even with the move. He assumed that she would have made good use of them in his absence. 

“It didn’t feel right,” she says, breathless. 

He dips one finger inside of her and begins to stroke. 

“And this? How does this feel?” he asks. If she’d gone as long as he had without a proper orgasm, he intends to make up for lost time. The three he’s already given her tonight aren’t nearly enough. 

She breathes heavily, but doesn’t answer him. It’s alright, the soft whimper is answer enough. She wants this, but she doesn’t think she can handle it. Oliver knows otherwise. He knows her body better than he knows his own. He knows when she just needs a gentle push and when she’s truly done. Right now, he can tell that she’s more than capable of handling more, she just needs a little nudge. 

His finger continues to thrust into her slowly as he places a kiss into the valley between her breasts. He adds a second finger as his lips travel down to her belly button. His thumb itches to rub at her clit, but he knows better. Not right now while she’s still too sensitive. He needs to wait. Let her orgasm build more, so the pressure is pleasurable rather than painful. 

He starts to move his fingers apart inside of her, spreading her wider as he sucks on her hip bone. She’s still stretched out from their previous times together. She wouldn’t need any preparation for him to slide right into her… and he wants to. God, he wants to. But he can’t go again. Even now, his dick is tingling painfully as blood starts to flow to it. He isn’t nineteen anymore. The days of going all night are long behind him. 

“Oliver,” she calls out, her hands fisted into the sheets. He closes his eyes and cherishes the way she calls out his name. 

Love and utter devotion. 

To this day, he doesn’t understand what he did to deserve her. He doesn’t understand what she sees in him, but he will never complain about her willingly crawling into his bed. She’s a goddess and he treasures every moment he gets to worship her. 

He adds a third finger as he bites down on her hip and he smiles as her hips lift off of the bed completely and she curses loudly. 

“Please,” she whines, spreading her legs further apart for him. 

He takes her right leg and raises it up so he can duck under it and rest it on his shoulder. He can smell her sex and it’s intoxicating. He blows gently on her wet entrance and she curses again. Rather than tease her endlessly like he had earlier this evening, he removes his fingers from her and uses them to spread her open. He leans in to nuzzle his face against her inner thigh. 

At first she giggles as his beard tickles her. She tries to move away from him and pushes at his head as he continues to rub his face against her thigh. 

“Stop,” she laughs. All amusement stops, however, the moment he licks at her entrance.

“Yes!” she cries out.

He licks into her as both of her hands move into his hair to hold him in place. As if he’d ever consider going anywhere. He moves his tongue around, searching for the spot that makes her scream. When he finds it, her body nearly bends in half. Her fingers tighten in his hair as she cries out loudly. 

He sincerely hopes that the walls in this place are as sound proof as their last place. 

He pulls his tongue out of her and replaces it with his fingers as his tongue circles around her clit, careful not touch it. He hooks his fingers, touching that spot. He can’t help but smirk at the way her hips come all the way off the bed as she calls out his name. Her heel digs into his back as she thrusts up against him. 

“Please… more… need,” she pants. 

He pulls his fingers out of her again and licks into her, thrusting his tongue inside as far at it will go before repeating the process over and over. 

“I need… you… please… Oliver… Baby... more,” she struggles with coherent thoughts, letting him know that her orgasm is building. This is always the point where he stops. She’s always too impatient. She prefers to come with him inside of her, and he’s never complained about that. But honestly, he can’t this time. He’s too spent from earlier. 

Her leg slips off of his shoulder as she tugs on his hair. 

“Oliver,” she attempts to pull him off of her. “Need… inside…” 

“Shhh.” Oliver’s hands go to her waist and gives her a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t right now.” 

“No,” she whines, continuing to try and pull him up. 

When he looks up at her, her eyes are nearly black. “Please.” 

He reaches down and wraps his hand around his dick to see if it’s even possible. He hisses at the contact. She smacks his hand out of the way and wraps her own around him. It doesn’t feel any better. He grits his teeth as she tries to pump him, but he doesn’t get hard. A pout forms on her face and he kisses it away. 

“Who were you saying broke who?” he teases, grabbing onto her wrist to pull her hand away from him. 

“Why did you start something you couldn’t finish,” she whines, kicking him playfully with her foot. “Jerk.” 

“I’m planning on finishing what I started,” he says, running his hand through her folds and causing her to moan. 

Her hand grabs at the back of his neck and she pulls him up. He complies, meeting her for a kiss that turns immediately filthy. He presses two fingers into her slow and steady. She thrusts up against him. 

“Oliver,” she cries out as his palm accidentally brushes up against her clit. 

With the kiss broken, his lips travel down to her neck and he begins to suck on her pulse point. He licks at her skin, taking note of how fast her heart is racing. He adds a third finger. 

Felicity continues to thrust against him and her movements grow more and more erratic. Her hands move from his back to the sheets to the headboard as she grids down onto his hand. He presses firmly against her g-spot and her head falls back hard against the headboard. He winces, but she barely notices. 

“Yes… There… More,” she whimpers. Tears have started to fall down her cheeks and he knows she’s walking the tightrope between pleasure and pain at this point. She’s nearing her limit. 

Oliver kisses her tears away before moving back down her body. His mouth hovers over her clit. As he hooks his finger against her g-spot and she cries out, his mouth covers her clit and he begins to suck. 

She makes a noise, halfway between pleasure and pain. He’s about to pull away, nervous that it had been too much, when her hands fist into his hair and she holds him there. His fingers thrust into her one… two more times and she comes undone. He continues to stroke her through her climax, laughing at the creative sting of curse words she lets out as her body shakes with the force of her orgasm. The vibration his laughter sends through her, has her whimpering. 

A few moments later, she pulls his mouth off of her and grabs at his wrists to stop. He leans back on his heels to watch her with a smile. As she’s coming down, Oliver licks his fingers clean, savoring the taste of her. Her eyes are unfocused, her hair is a mess, and she’s smiling in the way she only ever does for him. He takes advantage of the moment and stares at her, his eyes roaming over her body greedily. She’s gorgeous and perfect and the best part about her is that she’s completely his. 

She reaches out her hand for him with a pout. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves to lay down beside her. She’s practically trembling and he can’t help that overly manly part of him that feels a deep sense of pride at how completely she’s come undone at his doing. He pulls her into his arms and holds her close. He can feel when her breathing finally evens out and her body stops shaking. 

“I’ve miss this,” she says as her hand reaches out to lay against his heart. 

“The sex? It’s pretty great,” he says. If he were still nineteen with an endless libido, he’d never do anything else but make love to her. 

“I did miss the sex,” she says dreamily. “But I meant  _ this _ — lying here with you. The bed’s too big without you here.” 

“My bed was cold without you,” he says. At least here, she had been surrounded by their things while being safe and warm. Oliver had nothing. 

Not that he’s trying to compare their experiences. He knows that Felicity hasn’t had it easy here without him. He doesn’t want to belittle what she went though. 

She folds her hands on his chest and rests her chin on top of them to stare up at him. He’d almost forgotten how dark her eyes look after sex. Her pupils always take forever to return back to normal. He reaches out and tugs on a strand of hair that’s in her face and starting to curl from the sweat. With her flushed cheeks and bruised lips, there’s no mistaking the fact that she’s been thoroughly sexed. 

She’s stunning like this. It nearly takes his breath away. 

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you in there,” she says. 

“Good,” he says, firmly. 

Even the thought of her getting locked up… He can’t. There is a reason he took Watson’s deal. He never wanted to her to even have to consider what life is like on the inside. Felicity is too good for a place like prison. She’s too pure. He doesn’t want anything to ever taint that. 

He continues to play with her hair until she eventually reaches out to grab onto his wrist. Once she does, she turns his hand over to look at his wedding band. 

“You got it back,” she says with a smile, raising his hand to her lips to place a kiss against the ring. 

He had. It had been the first thing he’d put back on when they’d handed him his personal possessions upon release. 

“I felt naked without it,” he admits. 

She begins to play with his ring, twisting it back and forth, pulling it off, only to put it back on again. It’s become a habit of hers ever since they got married. He can’t say he minds. He loves that she loves his ring as much as he does. They’d both fought hard for that ring. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re really here,” she whispers. 

Unexpectedly, he feels his eyes well up with tears. He can’t believe it either. He keeps waiting for the dream to end and for him to wake up in the shu with only Bill to keep him from going insane. 

Felicity reaches out to wipe away a tear that managed to escape. She leaves her hand there when she’s done and he leans into her touch, reminding himself that this is real. 

“You’re home,” she reminds him. 

Oliver nods. Despite the fact that he’s never stepped foot in this house before tonight, there is no mistaking that this is his home. Home is a feeling, not a place, and Oliver always gets that feeling whenever he’s with William and Felicity. 

“I missed you so much,” he tells her. 

“We missed you too,” she says, kissing his lips softly. His arms wrap around her tightly and he pulls her on top of him. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t get this pardon.” 

“You would have survived,” he tells her. 

Those words bring a sudden flash of memories back for him. Memories of his dad saying that right before he shot himself. Of Yao Fei telling him. He hates those words. He never thought he’d ever be repeating them, but here he is saying them, because it’s true. People like them, they don’t give up. Felicity would have figured out how to live without him, because there wasn’t another choice. 

“I don’t know,” she says. “William has really struggled without you here.” 

And there it is. The one thing that’s been pulling at him painfully since he stepped through the doors of the bunker and told his family that he was coming home. 

William. 

Being away from Felicity was hard. Being away from William was heartbreaking. It made five months feel like five years. Coming back home and knowing that all is not well… it’s difficult. Felicity and William keep making little comments here and there that point to something serious having happened and not knowing what it is, has nearly driven him crazy. 

He hadn’t brought it up at dinner though. After taking Diaz down this afternoon, he’d just wanted one night with his family. A night that wasn’t overshadowed by their problems. William had helped him make eggs while Felicity helped to show him around the unfamiliar kitchen of their new house. It had been nice. Even with Roy around to give him a hard time, it had been perfect. 

And yeah, it hadn’t escaped Oliver’s notice that they still haven’t explained what Roy is doing living in the guest room when he’s supposed to be off destroying Lazarus Pits with Thea. 

Tonight had been everything they were supposed to have when he’d been aquitted. Everything that night was supposed to be before Diaz had ruined it by tearing apart the home they’d built together with violent gunfire. 

Oliver is glad that Felicity moved. He isn’t sure he’d have been able to sleep in the old condo without having flashbacks of that night. He’s never been more scared of anything in his life than the moment he realized that their home was under siege with William and Felicity inside. This home is going to be a fresh start for them. Diaz has been taken into custody. Oliver no longer has a life sentence hanging over his head. They can all finally have closure to the horrible events of the last year. 

They will be well and truly free. 

Whatever is going on with William, whatever trauma they may all hold, it can be overcome. Of that, Oliver is sure. 

Oliver runs his hands through her hair as she rests her head against his heart. 

“Tell me,” he says. 

Felicity sighs against him before rolling off and sitting up. 

So it’s going to be one of those kind of talks. A pit of worry begins to form in his stomach. He sits up as well and pulls the blanket over his lap to cover up as she reaches over the bed to grab his shirt and throws it on. 

“I want you to remember that William is in his bedroom, safe and sound,” she says, which only causes that worry to grow. If she has to preface any of this with a warning, it’s going to be bad. 

“Tell me,” he says, firmly. He needs to know. 

She crosses her arms and sits back on her heels. “A few weeks after you were sent away, William started to get it into his head that he needed to step up in your absence,” she says. “He felt like he needed to be responsible for everyone else.” 

Oliver nods. It makes sense. William has always been protective of others. 

“He wasn’t doing well,” she says. “He would lash out at others, lock himself in his room for hours at a time, he’d be clingy one minute and then want nothing to do with me the next. But that was nothing compared to how he treated the others.” 

“What did he do?” he asks. Oliver knows this William. The William she’s describing may not be the boy his son was when he left, but it’s the boy he was when he first came to live with Oliver. It’s who he was when he was struggling to deal with the death of his mother. 

“John, Dinah, Rene, and Curtis used to come over here to check on us,” she explains. “They were all worried about us when I refused to go into that safe house. So they would take turns coming over to the house for dinner. William hated it. He lashed out, hard. He blames them for everything that happened. He thinks that the only reason any of this happened with Diaz is because they left the team and you were all alone.” 

Oliver sighs. William’s not wrong. The fact that the team fell apart is exactly why Diaz was allowed to reign over the city as long as he did. But his son doesn’t understand. He’s too young and far too bias to see that the team falling apart was just as much Oliver’s responsibility as it was everyone else's. 

“I eventually had to tell them to stop coming around the house because it was too upsetting for William,” she explains. “He was just so angry all of the time at everyone.” 

“He’s had a lot happen to him,” Oliver explains. “Too much…” 

For that, he feels guilty. Everything bad that William’s had to experience in the last few years, has been a direct result of the fact that Oliver is his father. Darhk’s kidnapping, having to move away from Central City and the only home he’s ever known, being kidnapped by Prometheus, having to find out Oliver is his father from a psychopath, having to watch the island explode knowing his mother was on it, Samantha's death, having to move in with a father he didn’t know and was terrified of, living under the constant threat of violence — first from Cayden James and later from Diaz, watching Oliver’s trial and worrying over losing his father, surviving armed gunman raiding his home, and finally, Oliver getting arrested and shipped off to a maximum security prison where he could only see and talk to his father supratically… 

It’s a wonder William was as well adjusted as he was for so long. 

“Don’t do that,” Felicity says. 

“Do what?” 

His eyes fixate on a family photo that Felicity had blown up and hung on the wall. William is smiling in the photo. Oliver’s heart pulls painfully as he realizes that he’s given his son far more negative experiences than he ever has positive ones. 

“The fact that William reacted so badly to your arrest is proof that you’re a good father and he loves you,” she tells him. “His life is better with you in it.” 

Oliver’s eyes fill with tears. He wants to believe her, but it’s difficult. 

“What else happened?” he asks. He knows there’s more to this story than William yelling at a few of their friends. 

Felicity looks away from him and begins picking at her nail polish. She’s nervous. It puts him on edge. 

“I tried to get him to go to therapy,” she says. “I would drive him there, but he’d refuse to go in. He didn’t want help and I couldn’t force him. The doctors told me that the only way I could force him to go was to have him admitted at a facility and I didn’t feel comfortable doing that… Maybe I should have…” 

She bites her lip and refuses to meet his eyes. She only ever acts like this when she thinks he’s going to be mad at her for something, and usually, she’s right. 

“What happened,” he says slowly, demanding an answer. 

“The first time he snuck out, I had no idea. I didn’t even know that was a thing I needed to be worried about. He’d never tried it before...” she says and Oliver feels like the floor bottoms out. 

He has a feeling he knows where this is going and he thinks he might be sick. For a kid, there are two reasons to sneak out — sex or partying. William doesn’t strike him as the kind to be involved in either. He has snuck out before though. He’d done so after being explicitly told not to, and he’d walked right into what he knew would be a dangerous situation. He hadn’t even apologized for doing so when he’d shown up at that abandoned theatre. 

“I was woken up around 2am by the police at my door,” she says. “They’d found William wandering the streets. Thankfully, he hadn’t been hurt. But when I asked him what he thought he was doing, he said he’d been looking for Diaz.” 

Oliver’s breath catches in his throat and an intense feeling of fear consumes him. Even now that he knows logically the threat has passed, it doesn’t matter. He feels an intense need to get out of bed and go punch anything that even looks his son’s direction. His eyes go to the door and he debates just how crazy it would be to get out of bed and go check on William. 

“He’s okay, Oliver,” she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand to get his attention. 

“Why would he do that?” he asks. He still doesn’t understand what kind of kid rushes into a dangerous situation. He hadn’t understood it when William showed up at that theatre where Cayden James had that bomb, and he doesn’t understand it now. 

“Honestly?” she asks. He nods. Of course he wants her honest opinion. When has he ever not? “Because his dad is a hero who inspires confidence in everyone around him. He wants to follow in your footsteps. He wants to honor his mother and carry out his father’s mission.” 

“Does he have any idea how dangerous that is?!” he asks, his heart racing. 

Just thinking about William putting on that hood has him ready to hyperventilate. 

“He doesn’t care,” she says. 

Oliver feels like he’s been slapped and his stomach drops. 

What does she mean that William doesn’t care?

“He has to care,” he says as tears begin to fall before he can stop them. 

He shakes his head in disbelief. He knows that certain traits are hereditary, but a death wish? There are plenty of traits Oliver never wanted passed down to his son, but this is one he never even dreamed of. 

“He  _ has _ to care. Doesn’t he know how many people love him? Does he have any idea what that would do… If he died, I...” he can’t even finish that thought. He reaches out for Felicity. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he begins to cry into her neck as she rubs soothing circles into his back. 

Thinking that William could have been taken from him… Knowing that he has such little regard for his own life… It’s devastating. Samantha had left William to her. She’d made him promise to be a father to William. He’d promised her he would look after him and Oliver had failed. He’d failed his son in every way possible. 

To think that William doesn’t even care if he lives or dies… God, Oliver’s been there. He’s had those moments where he felt so lost that he didn’t care what happened to him. He’s been consumed with ugly, debilitating thoughts of how much easier it would be if he could just die. For most of his time away and a lot of his first year back, he was able to confront his enemies without any fear because he truly didn’t care if he made it home each night. 

Oliver had been fortunate. God, he’d been so lucky that death never called for him. That he’d been able to find a way out of every deadly fight he’s been apart of. If he hadn’t, he never would have found his beautiful family...

William is too young to be having those thoughts. He isn’t old enough to know the permanence of death. He can’t understand what it means to follow in Oliver’s footsteps. 

Oliver feels panic at thinking about how easily he could have lost William. At how easily he still could. He gets out of bed without a word and throws on his pajama pants. He then walks out of the room and down the hall to William’s. 

Quietly, not wanting to wake him, he opens the door and peeks his head in. He breathes a sigh of relief as he spots his son asleep on the bed. The glow from the television lights up his face. William had fallen asleep playing some video game, as is evident by the controller laying beside him. 

He watches the steady rise and fall of William’s chest, assuring himself that he’s still alive. That it’s not too late. 

Some time later, their bedroom door opens again and he hears Felicity’s footsteps coming closer. 

“We have to do something,” he says, looking up at her. She’s changed into a pair of pajamas. 

“We are, Baby,” she says, sitting down next to him and resting her head against his shoulder. He takes her hand in his and holds it to his chest. 

“He’s going to therapy now,” she informs him.

He looks up at her, curiously. She’d said that he’d refused to go… 

“We both go together,” she explains. “We started this week with twice a week sessions. They are helping him deal with his grief in healthy ways. We have another session on Wednesday. You should come.” 

Oliver nods. He’s willing to do anything if it will help his son. 

They stay like that, sitting in the hallway, for a long time. It’s not until Roy leaves his room to use the bathroom, and gives them both a strange look, that they start to consider moving. 

“We should probably get some rest,” Felicity says. 

Oliver agrees. He stands up and goes into William’s room to shut off the television. He then moves the controller from the bed to the nightstand and pulls William’s cell phone out from where it’s half tucked under his pillow and ready to set fire to the entire place. He plugs the phone into the charger. Finally, he grabs the blanket that’s fallen to the floor and covers William up with it, placing a kiss to his forehead as he does. 

“I love you more than anything in this entire world,” he whispers softly, not waiting to wake him, but needing to say it all the same. 

Oliver steps out of the room and quietly closes the door behind him. He then follows Felicity back down the hall to their bedroom. When the door closes behind them, Felicity sheds her pajama pants and shirt back off and crawls into bed. He can’t seem to move from his spot by the door though. His mind is racing with a thousand questions. 

“Tell me he only went out the one time,” he says. 

“I can’t.” She smiles up at him sadly. “He’s your son, Oliver.” 

He sighs, leaning back against the door. 

She’s right. Even before prison, William had started showing heroic tendencies that kept him up at night. After the tunnel explosions where William had gotten stuck while on a school trip, Oliver had mentioned to Felicity that he hadn’t known whether to be proud or angry at William for risking his safety to help others. 

“How many times?” he asks. 

“More than I can count,” she says. “I tried to keep him from going out, but the more I fought him, the more creative he got… I’m so sorry Oliver.” 

He takes a deep, steadying breath. It would be easy to place the blame at Felicity’s feet and yell at her for not taking better care of his son. However, Oliver knows Felicity. He believes she did everything in her power to protect William. If anyone is to blame, it’s Oliver. He’s the one that set this example for William. It’s his own footsteps William had been trying to follow. 

“Always going after Diaz?” he asks. 

“Most of the time, yes,” she says. “But not always. You saw that fresh scar above his eye?” 

Oliver nods. He’d wondered what had happened, but when he asked William about it down in the bunker, he’d been evasive. It makes sense now, if he’d gotten hurt doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. 

“He got that trying to save a girl in some alley.” 

Oliver breathes out a heavy sigh. Of course he had. 

“He wants to be a hero.” 

“Like father like son,” she says, smiling at him sadly. She reaches out her hand for him. “Come to bed. We can talk more in the morning.” 

“You should have said something,” he says, crossing his arms. He’s still not ready to go to bed. Not yet. 

“What would you have done, Oliver?” she asks. “You were in prison and had enough to worry about.” 

The words sting. He missed the first ten years of William’s life because his mother and Samantha both took it upon themselves to make decisions for him. His mom thought he was incapable of handling the responsibility of fatherhood while Samantha thought so little of him that she assumed he wouldn't care enough to be a father. He’s cried to Felicity about how much it hurts him to have missed those years with him. 

The fact that she would take the decision to be a father away from him again hurts. 

“He’s my son,” he reminds her. “There is no line of ‘enough’ when it comes to him. I’m his father. I have to know everything. I don’t get to just check out of his life nor do I want to.”  

“You’re right and I’m sorry,” she says, sincerely. “I didn’t keep it from you because I thought you wouldn’t be willing to help. I knew that you would be. I just didn’t see how you could and I didn’t want you to have to carry that guilt. I did it to protect you.” 

Oliver laughs bitterly. He can see now why she hates that excuse so much. It doesn’t feel good to hear. There is nothing romantic about it. It doesn’t matter if it was done with love or not, the fact that he was kept out of a decision like this, hurts. 

“Is that what I sound like whenever I say that to you?” he asks, moving to sit down on the bed. 

“I don’t know, do I sound like an overprotective, controlling jerk?”

He looks over his shoulder at her. Those aren’t the words he would have used. He would have said something less kind. 

“We’re quite the team, aren’t we?” he asks. 

She sits up in bed and pulls at his shoulders until he lays down in bed. “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about William. I didn’t even think about how it might bring up all the pain of being kept out of his life.” 

Now that he’s looking at her closer, he can see the signs of stress on her face. He can imagine that none of this has been easy on her. He nods, accepting her apology. 

“And I’m sorry about not coming to you before I made that deal with Watson. And not telling you about it afterwards,” he says. He knows that he’d already apologized for that, numerous times, but he feels the need to say it again. 

“No more lies or covering up the truth, no matter how ugly,” she says. He nods his head in agreement. He makes a personal vow, never to again tell her that he did something she didn’t agree with to protect her. 

“Never again,” he promises. He leans over to seal it with a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! The second/final part of this will hopefully get posted in a week or so.


End file.
